The Spiralling
by D4RKR4VEN
Summary: Unofficial sequel to Kick-Ass. Based on the movie with elements taken from the comics. Disclaimer: I do not own any of the material taken from the movie and comic series. Summary? Let's just say it's far from over. The wounds of old lingers on. -Complete- A sequel called 'The Descent' is in the works starting 27/8/2013.
1. Chapter 1: Vacation

I'd like to thank the following individuals for their contributions to this humble fan fiction:

Splish92 (Fellow Kick-Ass fanfiction writer and fanfiction writer of other titles)- She helped improved Chapter 2's cellphone text messages by changing words to their short-form counterparts the way anyone would text another person.

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**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 1: Vacation**

It didn't last very long, but then again, nothing does. I had inspired people to fight crime under the guise of their own imagination, but few were naive enough to follow the trend, and soon, seeing that they were about as lonely as Batman when the dogs were loose upon him, those few who tried to take the lead with the flag I held high for them at first soon gave up quietly.

Being a superhero was just too much of a fun for them. That Armenian guy who leapt off a skyscraper sure did not help with our image, neither did that fat guy in blue- he was offed by a mugger with a bat to the face. Hey, don't ask me how he died from that- maybe he suffered a heart attack at the exact same moment the club made contact with his face. It has only been half a year since me and Hit Girl took out Frank D'Amico.

Speaking of Hit Girl, don't ask. These days, she was either depressed or angry- her mood swings like a pendulum, and guess who takes the punishment? Day in and out, bullies were sent to the school infirmary. Within weeks since it started, the corridors always seem to empty itself whenever she appeared, and whenever there was just a few unlucky new-student-souls or stubborn-student-souls left in her way, she'd play the devil herself.

**In school...**

"Where do you think you're going?" Mindy rhetorically addressed a student who was just attempting to slip away. Her fellow fifth-grader froze, knowing better than to run- a few days back, he had witnessed what happened to what Mindy would term a chicken-shit coward.

"N-n-nowhere, j-just class..." It didn't matter what his name was, or how he looked. As far as he's concerned, he's road kill for the Mindy mobile. There were a few others around the vicinity- they tried to slither away like snakes, but her assassin glare was enough to ground them.

"Lunch money. Candy. Ipods." Without remorse, Macready demanded. Hesitantly, her fresh new batch of victims started shovelling out treasures from within their pockets and was about to hand them over when I came, "I want your shitty Switchblade too, dick. Nice name, by the way."

"Mindy! That's enough!" Yep, that's me. Dave Lizewski. It's been a couple of months since I last pulled a Superhero patrol, but hey, once you start, you can never stop being that beacon of hope you're addicted to being. Besides, there's this one last mission that I can never complete- and that was to look out for Mindy, I'd promised Marcus that.

Months ago, when I had to hug her as she cried for her lost father, I'd never imagine stopping Hit-Girl from preying on the meek and weak. She was not her former self any longer. Neither was I. The imagination and naivety that started Kick-Ass had simply vanished with Frank D'Amico when that rocket I fired at him exploded. I don't know, maybe the whole Kick-Ass thing was like a growing up stage for me. Every Superhero grows up anyway- Spiderman, Superman, especially Superman with with that Smallville series.

Not a word came out of that blonde 10 year-old when I warned her to stop. She was just glaring at me, but that did not stop me. Okay, I admit, she did send a shiver down my spine and I almost crapped my pants looking into her eyes, but then again, there were always shivers down my spine whenever I had to face hard-core criminals like R'Azhul (or whatever his name was) and especially Frank. I signalled for the victims to scram, and they did, seeing that the lioness had picked a new antelope to prey on.

"You should think about stopping right now." I continued, as stubborn as I had always been. A rather disturbing smile was starting to form on Mindy's face as I articulated every word as clearly and authoritatively as I could. I doubt I was able to make an impression on her, at all.

"Or what? You'll break my legs?" Like a butter knife slicing though half-melted margarine, she struck a nerve somewhere in me- I was never able to get over my past mistakes, especially my encounter with that drug dealer, when she saved me from having my balls getting cut out by Katie's drug dealer boyfriend. I don't know what I did- was it even justifiable?

"Beat the fuck out of m-"I slapped her at mid-taunt. I slapped her, after being a close friend for so many months- this was the girl who saved me, whom I saved in return. Before Marcus, for a few nights, I was the one who talked to her till she fell asleep, and whenever she had one of those episodes of extreme depression, I'd hug her, make that hot chocolate with extra marshmallows that her father used to make, whatever it takes to stabilize that hole in her heart. Even after handing Hit-Girl over to Marcus, I visited her often, had dinner with her, had sleepovers with her just to make her feel better. It was my closest experience so far to being a father, overtaking that other time when I had to babysit another blond kid- boy was he a handful.

What came next would put me in the pride wheelchair for the next twenty years. She gave me a hard jumping kick in the balls, and when I go down before I knew what hit me, I could feel her grip around my throat where, somehow, I don't know how, more pressure would be the end of me, and if I move, there would be pain. She slammed me against the lockers of the school. Her other arm was poised for a death blow. I could only stare at my impending doom as I was immobilized. Yep, I was the one who took the punishment.

"You slapped me! You son-of-a-" Mindy seemed shocked, not that I was surprised. I was shocked at myself too- how things turn out the way it did. Unexpectedly, tears started welling up in her eyes and soon, I could see streams of them. I was more worried about what she would have done to my face, not that I had much to show for. As soon as things heated up, she walked away, and I was too shocked to stand up, walk up to her, try to comfort her. I was glad I could even breathe...

**Later that day...**

I tried looking for her after school but she was totally gone, as if she took an invisible potion and vanished right when the bell rang. Not alot of people noticed her, which was rather odd considering how much of a reputation she had built herself right here in this cheerful school. Something was up- we would walk home together like brother and sister every day, despite her recent spate of bullying and 'self-defence' cases.

My worries were enough for me to ditch my friends Marty and Todd to cycle to Marcus William's residence a few bends and a distance away. It took me more than ten minutes to get there- and Mindy was still nowhere to be found. She had sneaked out of school way before I even realised she was gone, way before anyone did, as if she had some super-secret cloaking device in the form of a wrist watch or something.

The only person I knew then whom she might, with a slim chance, had informed of her whereabouts would be Sergeant Marcus Williams of the New York Police Department. Ever since Big Daddy died on that tragic day when we were betrayed by Red Mist, he had become the legal guardian of Mindy- and it's not like they were strangers when that cool dude gained custody of that little ninja. During one of those days when me and Mindy Macready would just sit down in a park and chat, she told me about her five years with him when her dad was imprisoned on a trump-up charge, and they had to be close.

I ringed the doorbell after clearing my throat and figuring out what to say- I still had problems speaking up at times when I was out of uniform. Somehow, I could only muster that kind of courage when I donned that wet suit.

"Hi Marcus, sorry that I didn't pick up Mind-" Before I could finish, the cop was already looking like he was leaving- full uniform and all.

"Oh hey, it's okay. Mindy's off for an overseas vacation with her school friend's family. I've got to go- the whistle's blown." Marcus rushed through his words as he rushed through the front lawn and into his car parked up front. Before he could speed off, I had to inquire further. She never had any other friends in school before. Not when everyone regarded her as a 'fucking freak' as they would say.

"Wait, no one told me about a vacation!" I shouted after him as he was quite far off in his car before I could stop him. He motioned me to get closer- and I knew that it could only mean he was going to tell me something important about the three of us.

"Look, Dave, I know she's like a sister to you and it's a little last minute and all, but she needs a little shut eye and fun, you know what I mean?" It was a daddy type lecture, "Besides, all that vigilante nonsense had somehow kind of made her independent, and you gotta learn how not to stifle her. She's been strung up lately, and that vacation of her's long overdue. She planned it for months man, I'm telling you. With that tour package in China and all..."

All I could do was nod. In fact, I kind of agreed with Marcus, it's not as if he was unreasonable. Perhaps this way, Mindy would start behaving like a sweet little girl again. He had no idea just how strung up Mindy was by the way- Marcus was kept in the dark regarding her behaviour in school. All of her misdemeanours were unreported. At the most, she was only given warnings- warnings, that's the worst this school could dish out which was no wonder why misbehaviour was as common as crime in Gotham city. They were too afraid of parents suing the crap out of them.

For the rest of my day I spent my time trying not to think of my 'God-sister', and instead I was, for some reason, working on my old Kick-Ass costume, making a few changes to them. It helps keep my mind off things, off things like how my dream of living the Spiderman life with Katie Deauxma got flushed down the drain with me in the water like some itsy bitsy spider. Life was more complicated than how it was in the comic books- she went for me for a few months in order to explore her heterosexual side. My world was turned upside down when I pretended to be gay in order to get close to her. It went right side up and came crashing down when she left because I just had to go out as Kick Ass once in a while to relive my glory days.

I've decided that the rig used to hold my taser and batons was limited in capacity. I won't be able to jam anymore equipment in it- what I needed was a little more space, and it just so happens that my dad had an old utility belt he discarded in the basement about a year ago- he was a security guard and he was expected to carry some gear- torchlights, a pistol, some keys...

I had to dye it yellow to fit the theme of my costume. After that it was all a matter of deciding what goes into the pockets and leather holders. The last time I checked, grappling hooks fired from a gun weren't exactly fashionable, so I went with the pepper spray my dad gave me- It's been sitting in my wardrobe for months and its time the vial of pepper earn its rightful place. I shifted its brother, my taser, down to a holster next to it. My personal items were stuffed into a pouch to my left. I had the next best thing to a handcuff, and that was a whole bunch of cable ties- not easy to break, very easy to lock. I had to bring along a pair of shears of course so that I may cut it lose when I need to.

It was more work than it looked, and by the time I was done, I was pouring sweats all over. Even Ironman needs a little bit of relaxation and enjoyment, so I laid back on my bed, Mountain Dew on my left and a TV controller on my right, watching the news.

Those days, crime wasn't as bad as it used to be, back when Frank D'Amico was plying his underworld trade. Now, there were just a few petty crimes here and there, nothing I could do to help- the police were doing their job right for once. And then came the bombshell that, in a way, I was secretly wishing would drop on my side of New York again.

The next news feature was about Super Villains as opposed to Super Heroes. Red Mist was on camera, and I was instantly glued to the television. Apparently he had managed to rob a bank of five million green papers. All bank staff were killed so there were no witnesses. There were accomplices with him- these huge musclemen in smart business suits and ski masks. He had rebuilt the empire his father lost, and I knew at that point that it was time for Kick Ass to return to the streets again...


	2. Chapter 2: The Return

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 2: The Return**

**Next day...**

I couldn't just start straight away, even the dumbest asshole would know that. I needed intel- thank God it's Saturday. After kicking my last ass in D'Amico's Penthouse, I simply assumed that everything was over, that the mob was finished, that anyone belonging to that syndicate was either a stiff or in the slammer. I had thought that Chris would be in some gritty boy's home or at least on curfew with a police tracker on his wrist or ankle. I was wrong.

I spent my morning in the library the moment it was open. Spent a good few hours poring through old and new newspaper articles. I had to work backwards starting with the latest headline covering Chris D'Amico's raid on a branch of the Bank of Asia. What I found dwarfed what I thought was possible of the mob boss' son. After being found on the crime scene, he was charged for involvement in criminal activities, but was later found not guilty with the help of his family's lawyer, who was none other than the infamous Jack Fowls, some guy with a track record of saving 153 men and women from jail time and the electric chair when it was certain that they were actual criminals.

Frank's Lumber Mill was rebuilt after that, and he had started a chain of hardware stores named Chris' Steelwares. Somehow, no one found out about Chris' alter ego, Red Mist. There was no mention of that at all. He must have hid his costume where the police had no hope of finding. Just three months ago, there was an unconfirmed report of Mob activities restarting- there was this article I found about an editor commenting on this based on sketchy sources from the police and streets.

The last time I checked my Kick-Ass email accounts were months ago, and it seemed wise to pick up the habit again as soon as I came home. When I checked, it was filled to the brim, all of them (I had email accounts in Yahoo, Gmail and Hotmail, not to mention Myspace). That was my mission from 12 to 10 post meridiem. Yes, it took me that long to look through everything, well, most of the messages. I had to skim through, I'm not Flash or anything no matter how much I wanted that kind of speed.

The bulk of it was just fan mail and people asking all sorts of questions, from advice on being a superhero to even 'Will you marry me?' from the opposite sex aged 18 to 60. I did unearth a few important messages though.

**---START OF MESSAGE---**

Dear Kick-Ass:

You think you're something SPECIAL, don't you? You and those fucking faggots you hang out with now really think you're THE SHIT. But you are nothing except SAD and ALONE.

My friends and I are going to find out who you are and FUCK you up BAD. We're also going to find out the names of the people you LOVE and make them rue the day you ever were BORN.

You should have ANTICIPATED this when you started this SUPER-CUNT CRAP. It's not just HEROES who appear in these books and everybody loves a BAD GUY.

As a GREAT MAN once SAID... wait until they get a load of ME.

Red Mist.

**---END OF MESSAGE---**

That was a month ago. He had been planning this all along. Rise from the ashes, rebuild what was lost and show Kick-Ass the true meaning of his name. To say that I wasn't terrified would be a lie. I was no hero, and gone were the days when Superheroes were flawless characters. We're all antiheroes these days. When there was no reply as I was nearly retired from the superhero business at that time, there were several more death threats from Red Mist, somewhere between 'You are one FUCKING COWARD.' To 'Anytime now, I will FIND YOU." There was nothing else new from him, so my attention shifted to this other message from someone else who wanted the Kick-Ass cake. It was far more recent- it came in just three days ago.

The email had no heading, no greetings or goodbyes, and came from an address that could not be described with only random alphabets and numbers strung together:

**---START OF MESSAGE---**

You do not know me, and you will never know me. Everyone thinks of you as some goody two shoes that made the cut, but to me you are just a fucking spaz in a scuba suit who thinks he's great just because of a few lucky hits.

Well guess what bitch? You may have saved a few, but you have also killed many, destroyed just as many lives, including mine. I'm coming for you.

**---END OF MESSAGE---**

I wasn't just afraid after reading this second threat, I was frickin' scared shitless, but then I told myself that it could be a thousand other things- a prank, a jealous 'Superhero', or even a mass email or a virus. It didn't help with that storm cloud hanging over my head after that though, because in my mind I knew it may also be my Doctor Doom on the other side of that e-threat. After deleting everything in my accounts, I lay in bed, just thinking, just hesitating, just being a coward and a little baby.

It was an hour before stupidity paid me a visit. I was angry at myself, I was angry at whomever these people were who took it upon themselves to eradicate my very existence on Earth. At the same time, I was amused at how my life remained as surreal as a comic book despite the pages burning away as the world returned to its usual, boring self. I wanted to end it once and for all, I wanted the final showdown, one that would put an end to my fear and problems while at the same time serve as a sweet memory until the day I die either from some super heroic death or from natural causes like my mother.

I emailed Red Mist and whomever the other Supervillain was and told them to meet me on the well-lit rooftop of some random skyscraper with a flat roof at midnight. The place I chose was the perfect arena for a final showdown. I told them the rules. No guns, no bombs, and whoever loses get the well-deserved attention of the closest police station. Both replied immediately and agreed.

I had another hour after that to make preparations and send my regards to those I cared in my life in case something happens. Like a samurai or a kamikaze off to the final battlefield, I drank my final cup of water, ate my final supper before donning my modified Kick-Ass suit slowly and methodically. If only Katie was there to help me, it would have made for a perfect movie scene and it wouldn't look too bad on the last few pages of a comic book either.

I left early, to perch on the top of a nearby apartment for a while as I watched the night sky. Believe me, I was that angst as I knew that it would be bloody and brutal, and it may not be me coming out on top of the gory mess in the end. I sent messages to everyone who was a friend or dear me. Katie, no matter how much she hated me now, my dad, who never knew I was Kick-Ass to begin with, the few friends I had in school whom I spent so much time with reading comic books and hanging out, and finally Mindy, the kid version of Lara Croft, and Marcus, the good cop who never fails to appear on every comic book in the world.

**---START OF MESSAGE---**  
K, I no I'm not supposed 2 contact u nemore but I just want u 2 no that u were the best thing eva that happened 2 me n it will always b that way till the day I dy. I know it sounds corny but... That's what I want 2 say. I luv u  
**---END OF MESSAGE---**

**---START OF MESSAGE---**  
Hey Dad, I no ur busy patrolling now but thx so much 4 everything uv done 4 me. Will neva forget those times when u took care of me after I'm out of hospital and still bedridden. Ave a good shift : )  
**--END OF MESSAGE---**

**---START OF MESSAGE---**  
HELLO!!! Todd! Marty! It's been cool so far. Just needed 2 get that off my chest. Thax for the Kick ** cosplay uniform u guys bought for me on my birthday. See y'all.  
**---END OF MESSAGE---**

**---START OF MESSAGE---**  
Mindy. I no u're angry with me, n I no ur pain with ur dad gone n everything. Im sorry that I slapped u yesterday. I'm still sorry about ur dad. If it weren't 4 u, I woulda killed myself a long time ago. He wz cool, a true superhero that would put batman 2 shame. U could pit a thousand Kick-Asses against him n he'd still win. I wz a klutz n I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

I luv u. Ur a sister 2 me. Ull always b my sister, that is if u still want me around.

Anyway, I gotta go now. There's something I gotta do. Cya.  
**---END OF MESSAGE---**

That was a tad long for Mindy, but I felt that I owe her. Just how often were you the cause of someone's parent's death anyway? Think about that.

**---START OF MESSAGE---**  
Hey Marc, just wanted to say thax. For giving Mindy a new home n everything. Take good care of her. Send her my regards. Cya.  
**---END OF MESSAGE---**

With a mushy end to my free time, I got off the roof and hit the streets, making a steady beeline towards the arena of my choosing, ignoring the various comments people on the streets were giving me.

"You rock, Kick-Ass!"Someone in a group of high school students shouted, all I could do was to thank him absently as my eyes remained fixed upon the direction I was travelling at on foot. After so much experience walking over long distances, it became hardly a trouble for me. If I had any superpowers, that would be it.

"Talk about Kick-Ass 2.0!" Another student said in the same group. '3.0', I corrected her mentally as I reminiscent on my career as Kick-Ass. 1.0 nearly died of a stab wound and car accident. 2.0 barely survived, and without the help of other superheroes, he wouldn't have. This time, its Kick Ass 3.0's turn.

"That's some cool 'quipment you got there, Kick-Ass!" The last of the five students said just as I passed them. As soon as I had fully recovered from the battle at Frank's penthouse, I continued to refine my battle techniques. I figured out cooler and better ways to crack skulls with my batons, started coming up with combinations as if I was playing Fighter Maker 2. I've had more gym sessions than never before. I guess it was my way of desperately keeping the Kick-Ass spirit alive as the world was beginning to shit it out when the craze died down a little.

As I neared the more bustling zones of New York, I had to rush a little. Some people were cheering me on, thinking that I was out to perform some decade-defining stunt again. In a way, they were right, but I'm not exactly chasing anyone. Well, a little enthusiasm was always welcome. Every comic-book protagonist needs it, and so do I.

The office tower had forty floors, so I had to take the lift, I would need to save the energy for my final moment. The wait was long and agonising, the numbers flipping too slowly. In my mind, I was already coming up with the moves I want to use, drawing references from my favourite comics, movies and TV series as well. The media was inspired by real-life, so the way I saw it, there was no reason why real-life cannot be inspired by the media.

The lift I took opened up as I reached the final floor, and there was no hard-working, caffeine drinking office worker left to accompany me into the gladiator stadium. Breathing deeply, with some inspiring song by either Danny Elfman or John Murphy playing in my head, I rounded a 90 degrees turn in the corridor and walked up a flight of stairs leading to the rooftop. Slowly and methodically I made my way out, at the same speed as how Gladiator worked its way up to its final fight scene. I even slid my fingers on the concrete wall for good luck as I emerged into the cool air, the way Maximus rubbed the white arena sand into his hands for good luck just before that faithful battle...


	3. Chapter 3: Crimson on Blue

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 3: Crimson on blue**

It wasn't the scene I was expecting. The inner child within me was hoping for Red Mist at the left most corner of the roof and the mystery man on the right. What I got was three dead bodies of some thugs flanking the left and right of the exit. That asshole never did wanted to play fair. Up ahead, a girl only slightly taller than Hit Girl and possibly a year or two older was straddling a badly mangled Red Mist. It was a sight of horrors- Red Mist had numerous cuts both shallow and deep, long and short on him, his costume ripped all over. He was vomiting blood like the angel's falls and on top of him, some girl with white hair or wig was holding high with both hands a knife (called KA-BAR or something), about to stab him in the throat.

I was thinking 'Hit Girl' when I saw this mystery heroine, but I knew it was impossible to be her. Her uniform was completely different. Sure, she had a similar band around her face, but she was wearing a black jumpsuit with highly intricate, abstract evil silver patterns and a black cape. Her boots looked like it came out of The Matrix or one of those vampire movies, like the Blade series. Her gloves were black versions of what Mindy used to wear, except with permanently built-in steel brass knuckles and claws. She was covered in blood.

The way I described it sounds like Mindy in a different costume, but her natural looks were way too far off- she was quite possibly an albino- white hair, quite pale skin and red irises. Her skin was just not pale enough for me to be sure. Moreover, she seemed slightly taller and more developed.

I was in shock and awe for a second there. What had happened had thrown my plans way off the building. Moreover, it was mindboggling to think that there was another little superheroine who appeared to be just as capable, just as ambitious with what looked like similar goals. What were the chances? Their style appears similar as well- This albino had twin katana-like swords hanging from her utility belt, as well as twin pistols holstered on her thigh. What were the chances?

Without so much as a second's hesitation, this adolescent brought the knife down upon Red Mist's throat, aimed at the windpipe. The hopeless sod couldn't even scream. I stood there frozen, my mind still struggling to catch up. It was when she turned to glare at me that I woke up. In a way reminding me of Catwoman, she got up slowly, as if anticipating any sudden movements. Holy fuck, I thought to myself, am I screwed? If this was the mystery girl who wants me dead, then I'm a definite goner- from the looks of it, even Hit-Girl would not qualify to be her sidekick, then what am I?

"Here for the match, spaz?" The gargoyle of doom addressed me- I could feel a wave of chilling air as she took a few steps closer. My lips were sealed with fear- it was like meeting Macfarlane's Spawn, except ten times worse with cutting edge graphics and sound effects thrown in. It was like back to square one, to my first encounter with those two carjackers. I felt well-equipped, but no longer. I took a few steps back to maintain a more comfortable distance from her- as far as physically possible, "What, backing out now?"

"N-no..." It was all I could utter, my previous experiences with brave catch-phrases down the drain, my previous experiences with criminals shamed. As if in contemplation, the demon girl, with her hand, wiped the blood off her face and licked it. In her mouth, I caught a glimpse of metal fangs. She was literally armed to the teeth!

"I'll make it easy for you." Demon girl said, snorting, almost casually as she removed her own utility belt, letting her twin katanas drop carelessly. She then proceeded to undo the holsters with guns on her thighs, letting them drop as well. She took out a hidden pistol and knife from her boots and released them from her grasp- they fell with slight clangs. Lastly, the KA-BAR on her chest was removed as well. Of all the killing tools the ghost had, she chose a fan that was hidden somewhere around her left bicep area, though I still felt she was more dangerous than a squad of trained terrorists with it, "Still going to run, bitch?"

"I don't run." After so much time, I was able to finally work up the courage to speak to the monster before me. I had to admit, however, her scare tactics worked, or at least, I was hoping they were just scare tactics and not habits.

"We'll see," after our little pre-fight talk, she charged at me. Based more on instinct than any of the combos I worked out, I reached for my taser and pulled it from its resting place on my right. The quick-draw in me was able to aim and fire the stun gun at my new nemesis, but this superior Hit-Girl alternative was somehow able to intercept the wires with her fan.

I dropped my taser and my batons were out just before she covered the odd 30 meters between us. At least that was something to be glad of- my reflexes had improved with training.

I decided to go on the offensive without actually cranking my brain over what to do next. I tried whacking her over the side of her jaw with a horizontal swipe from my right night stick, but a slight duck from her was enough to avoid it. I went with one of my combos- next thing I tried was a vertical swipe from my left baton, but the ghost seemed to have floated sideways and knocked the stick out of her way with her fan, making my attempt a waste in energy and opportunity.

Next thing I knew, there was a sharp pain in my stomach as she had jammed the head of her fan into my solar plexus. I was forced a few steps back as the pain was too intense. I tried to do the same to her pretty face with both my nightsticks, but she simply backflipped out of my reach, simultaneously kicking my main weapons out of my hands. Like a shuriken, she threw the fan at some pressure point on my forehead before she landed and I was pushed back.

So much pain in too short a time- as I was cupping my face with my hands, trying to hold it together from falling apart, she leapt forward and caught her fan in midair as it bounced off my throbbing brain, let herself fall and rolled on the floor before jumping high up and bringing down the fan upon the peak of my skull, blunting stabbing it.

It was at that point that I realised that the fan was made of solid steel. Blood was streaking down my face in slow, encroaching torrents, obscuring my vision as I fell backwards. Had 85% of my skull not been covered with titanium plates, my brain would have liquefied into some swirling ooze from such a strike. I had my ways of dealing with pain, and this time, I just didn't want to die.

When I went down, she was just standing there, as if toying with me, having fun watching as I winced and trembled with pain. It was as if she was waiting for me to get up. I was barely sitting up when she ran at me again. Lucky for me, I had a wonderful surprise present for her. One thing I learned about the superhero trade was to always have a plan B, or even a C,D and E.

Just when she came flying close enough, I pulled out my pepperspray and gave her a full push of the perfume. I had caught her off-guard, a full spray in the tender, pale face. Or so I thought. Her movement was too quick that it seemed her face was there for me to shoot at, but it wasn't. She had already twisted her face away as she jumped for a reason beyond me. What I saw was just a blur outline floating like a ghost in thin air- my mind was just too slow to comprehend, what with all the abuse it was going through. I wasn't just seeing doubles, it was at least double of that.

I was not as quick. My face was there for her to kick, and so she gave me a back thrust in mid-air (so that was why she jumped). It was forceful enough to knock me back down, nearly out-cold and half-dead from shock. As I laid back, I could almost feel my soul gliding half-way upwards into the maroon sky when she interrupted me.

Crouching over me, she pulled my mask off- I felt naked and vulnerable as soon as the blue was missing. She grabbed my hair, pulling it and lifting up my head along with the black strands. I couldn't struggle; I was too drained and beaten up to. I couldn't stop myself as I knew this was it, my death day. I started crying as I coughed some blood out. Yes, I was still quite a wimp after all that I've been through- maybe that's just who I am.

"Stop mewling, you useless fuck." The demon girl slammed my head against the cement floor to shut me up. It worked, "I'm not going to kill you... At least, not yet."

"Wha- what are you going to do?" I asked weakly, the obvious stench of fear permeating my every word. Images of this sadistic, ruthless girl torturing me, killing me by dismembering my body slowly made its way into my desperate mind as I stared deep into my winning nemesis' bright red eyes. I was trying to read her eyes in a vain hope of finding even a small vein of mercy, but there was none.

"Let's just say you're supper..." The unknown girl explained, her voice constricting into a whisper as she grow ever more menacing. With an index finger, she scooped up some blood from my forehead and tasted it. I was starting to panic- some very effective scare tactic, the fact that she actually enjoyed delivering pain, drinking blood. I could see it in her face all along, "There are other motherfucking cunts out there, many others who deserve the fuck of their lives..." Demon girl explained vaguely before knocking the lights out with a punch in my face.


	4. Chapter 4: Homebound

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 4: Homebound**

Before I go out completely, I could see her standing up and walking away. My consciousness flickered, and seconds passed within a millisecond, and I saw her putting on the equipments and gear she discarded earlier. Another flicker and she was jumping off the roof the way Batman would to spread his wings and glide away. There was no way I could stay conscious after that- my brain, like a computer, was in need of a reboot after the trauma it went through.

An indeterminable amount of time passed before I woke up- my vision was a blur even after so much off time. Looking up at the sky, I realised that it was still the same maroon. The only difference was that raindrops were streaking down from the dark heavens. It was starting to rain. At first, I was numb to everything around me, but after enough raindrops had hit me, my mind jumpstarted itself, and it was then that I knew I had to get out before the police arrive. Getting detained for a crime I did not commit was not part of the agenda, even if there was no chance I would be accused of the stiffs. They might pull off my mask as they would always need identities for paperwork, or at least that was what dad told me. It would be a mighty waste of time as well- they could keep me in a cell for days if they so desired.

Remembering that I had a watch in my utility belt, I took it out and had a quick peek of the time. It was hard to make out the digital numbers at first as I was seeing doubles, but eventually I made the time out to be 12:10am- I had been out for a few minutes at the most. I was severely weakened, beaten to a pulp by some kid who had just hit puberty. I had to summon all of my strength just to get up, and another 100% of my strength and will to put on my mask again- wouldn't want my secret identity in the newspapers the next day. I had to collect my nightsticks after that- at least I won't need to gather up the flakes of papers from my taser. I had taught myself how to remove them so that the police could not trace them back to me.

'Who the hell was that girl?' I thought as I limped my way down the flight of stairs. There was no answer following that question- the demon girl hadn't even introduced herself, which was supposed to be part of the superhero and supervillain convention.

'For now,' I thought as I struggled down step by step using the stairwell- I couldn't afford to run into the police who would surely be using the elevators, 'I'll just call her... The Demoness...' Her name was based on her biblically sinful tendency to drink blood and hurt or kill with pleasure. Cheesy, but it was the best I had out of my vivid imaginations, albeit one that was impaired by all sorts of discomfort and pain assaulting my body then. It would be a while before I reach home, even if I were to travel by taxi.

**Meanwhile...**

"Grandmaster? It is time..." A rather young adult reminded a man who was way past his prime- he was kneeling on the floor, leaning against his claymore, both strong hands on its hilt, praying. It was obvious as there was a Catholic cross on the wall he was facing.

"Grandmaster?" The young man repeated himself as the 50 year old did not respond, but instead continued to whisper to himself and Jesus. It was only a while later that the 'Grandmaster' opened his eyes and stood up, sheathing the claymore as he did so. Turning around, he regarded his young student- scanned him from head to toe.

The 'Grandmaster' was an imposing man, fully muscled from years upon years of rigorous training, practice and work. Although his face bore the scars of past battles, and his crow's feet and partially white hair betrays his age, he commanded great respect.

"You will do well not to interrupt me in my prayers again, apprentice." The Grandmaster warned the younger one.

"I'm just trying to do my best to help you, Grandmaster, for taking me in." The young man in simple wool shirt and long pants apologised as his eyes darted around the room and his teacher.

"I understand your zeal, but there must always be a certain restraint in everything we pursue, lest we lead ourselves to our own doom through over-excitation. Learn this, and your potential as a student could only expand." The Grandmaster, out of care and habit, lectured his apprentice, who was caught between listening and absorbing everything the Grandmaster said and being ignorant as he was tired of being told what to do every second of the day.

"Do you have everything you need, Grandmaster?" The apprentice asked, his eyes questioning the details of his teacher's chests of clothes and essentials, his bags of equipment meant for medieval warfare and the old man's bearings. He was wearing a thick cloak with an overhanging hood, over steel-studded leather and underneath, dull brown shirt and pants. He had leather boots for footwear and a claymore on his belt for defense.

"Yes, more than what I require; it is nearly always preferable to be over-prepared than under." The Grandmaster replied eloquently, casually before calling for his servants to carry his baggage to the entrance of his school.

"Are you sure, Grandmaster?" The young man said, the meaning of his words obviously deeper than its face value. His eyes were pleading, concentrated on his elder, wanting something.

"I know what you mean, but I will manage on my own." He had to disappoint his young apprentice as he was a teacher, and his interest will remain to be those training under his wing, "Your place is here, for now. You will grow here, and you are ill-prepared for the outside world."

"But sir, I-" The young man tried to argue his case, but was interjected.

"I will have none of this! You will stay!" With that, the Grandmaster left his room as the last of his antique chests and bags were transported out.

"You will need someone who knows New York, sir!" Undeterred, the young man went on to push his luck. The Grandmaster did not even look back, he just kept walking along the wooden corridors of his school's quarters.

"It does not matter what knowledge I have of the city." The older man replied, his voice returning to a more calm and serene level, but remained strong and authoritative, "All a man needs is his virtues and purpose and I have both aplenty."

As the two went on to verbally spar, a scene made possible only by the Grandmaster's tolerance and his student's insistence, the two walked through a great hall where the younger initiates were learning how to handle their own two-handed swords using wooden ones, lead by one of the lesser teachers. Everyone was dressed simple as the school was remote, and materials were taken straight from nature. It was only the weapons and armour that seemed impressive, artefacts that came right out of a fantasy book, or the long-forgotten past.

Eventually, the teacher reached the main entrance, and proceeded to follow his entourage of servants out into the snowy abyss, somewhere in remote Canada. Out in the fields, where an old road lay, a thin thread connecting the school to the outside world, was an SUV. The chauffeur was leaning against his car, waiting. The young man continued to badger his teacher despite being shot down twice for every statement he makes. Eventually, the younger one was ordered back into the school.

Two Masters were waiting by the SUV- they were there to have a final talk with the Grandmaster, and to see him off. The elderly swordsman was after all, important to the functions and survival of the medieval arts school. Upon seeing his associates, the Grandmaster waved for his apprentice to get inside his school after he caught a glance of him hiding in the shadows.

"A good night to you, Grandmaster. So there is no way to convince you otherwise?" One of the Master, a tall and sturdy 30 plus year old woman in monk-like cloak, asked, her face displaying as much emotions as the wintry night. Yet, the Grandmaster could easily glance behind the face.

"Without a past, I am but an empty shell. I need to know what has happened to my family and home of twenty years ago." The Grandmaster reasoned as he opened the front passenger seat door of the car. The chauffeur began making his way to the driver's side- his eyes met those of the other Sword Master, a man who seems reserved, more so than the other two teachers around the SUV.

"The students had given you ideas, did they?" The reserved Sword Master, a pale and scrawny looking man, questioned the Grandmaster fearlessly- despite looking less impressive than his peers, he seemed imposing all the same.

"As Masters, we teach our apprentice, but as Masters, we let ourselves be taught by our apprentice..." With some words of wisdom dispensed, the Grandmaster ducked as he got into the vehicle.

"How will the school run without you?" Before the Grandmaster could close the door and order the chauffeur to drive off, the Swordsmistress, concerned, asked.

"I'm sure the two of you could manage in my stead. Should I cease to mail any letters or chose not to return, you will succeed me as Grandmistress."

**Dave's house...**

By the time I returned home, the house was already quite deserted. I couldn't hear anything, not even pin drops and footsteps. There was no light underneath my door, where there would usually be carpets of whiteness creeping into my room. I considered investigating, but then I remembered; My father was working night shift. The punishment I received in the fight must have downgraded my mind from Pentium 4 to 2.

I had free reign over the house until breakfast. For the first time in an hour, ever since the Demoness forcibly stripped my face of its protection, something that could easily have been any superhero's nightmare, I had my mask removed, and the sight wasn't a bed of roses, though it still had something to do with the colour Red. Just when I thought the outside was stained badly enough with blood, the inside proved me wrong- it was soaking wet.

I had to check myself for injuries. I started stripping myself, after locking the door to my bedroom as a precaution of course. Upon removing my gloves, I realised that my fingers were badly bruised and shaking like a neurotic case- It was due to Demoness' kick when she did a backflip to avoid my batons.

Upon slipping off my scuba suit after letting fall my utility belt and weapons, I removed the singlet underneath- surprising it wasn't maroon with dried blood like my mask. What was on my birthday suit, however, was more than just maroon. My entire stomach region was blue-and-black, the result of Demoness' use of her deadly iron fan (I finally found a better term for her pretty little Asian souvenir). It was tender to the touch, and after seeing the severity of it, to movement. I hadn't felt as shitty as this ever since I was nearly executed with Big Daddy by Frank D'Amico's men- it may even break the record if pain could be measured.

Despite wanting to just fall asleep and never wake up, there was still work to be done. One thing superhero pulp fiction got right was a superhero's work was never done. I had to clean up my mess- my uniform needs to be cleaned before being hidden away. My wounds would need attention or I might die in my sleep from all the blood I had lost. So, grudgingly, as I swore vengeance against Demoness for the extra work I had to put in because of her effective fighting ability that would put The Punisher to shame, I went ahead to get started patching up the ugly mess on my head...


	5. Chapter 5: An End at Dawn

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 5: An End at Dawn**

We knew where the Demoness' hide out was all along, or rather, Hit-Girl knew from her contacts at school. After receiving an emergency call from me about this new villain who nearly liquefied my brain, she flew right back home to meet me. We went ad hoc all the way- there was no time to decide all the details of our operation. After getting suited up and ready to go, she met me at the rooftop of some building, and together we made a run for the Demoness' apartment, attracting the usual attention all the way- Kick-Ass and Hit-Girl running along the street, K-I- C- K- I- N- G. A news crew was there, and they shifted their attention from some celebrity to us, but we had no time for publicity stunts.

Her room was in the top floor of some semi-abandoned apartment building- we ran straight up after finding out that the lifts were dead. I was wounded, exhausted, but I kept up as I knew that this girl was psychotic, probably a mental case with several conditions rolled into one. Hit-Girl was rusty, but she knew she had to care- she knew her father would want her to.

Upon reaching the door to the devil's lair, we stood leaning against the wall on either side of the entrance. Hit-Girl had decided not to take any chances, so she pulled out her twin pistols. I, of all things, had twin tasers- who would've thought of that? It was an idea I had ever since finding out the bloody way that a trained kid could intercept the electrodes of a taser- I doubt she could take on two.

"You ready, Kick-Ass?" Hit-Girl gripped her pistols tightly as she asked to go ahead with the operation. For a second I took a deep breath before nodding my head. I just wanted to get it over and done with, finish off another villain. After I nodded, I kicked open the door and ran in with Hit-Girl following behind me.

"Your days are over, Demoness!" I shouted as I charged at my target. The Demoness was there, reading a book on the occult and witchcraft as she was sitting behind a dining table. Before I knew it happened however, the Demoness had shot at me through the book she was reading- the bullet caught me in the left lung, and I was quickly out of the way. Even my 'return fire' was useless- both my tasers had completely missed due to my flinching- a rather shameful way of getting decommissioned, movie bit-player style.

A gunfight between the two girls ensued after that, and they were both flying about, missing each other. Somehow, it reminded me of some strange stage play of Superman versus Ironman. Eventually, the both of them ran out of ammunition. Hit-Girl was intending to reload, but the Demoness dropped the revolver she was using and, unsheathing swords that seems to be her trademark weapons, made a dash for Hit-Girl. Knowing her guns to be useless, my God sister threw her pistols at the Demoness to slow her down, but they simply bounced off the albino's swords as she shielded herself with them, forming an X- it didn't slow her down one bit as she did it without stopping.

Before Hit-Girl could take in hand her disassembled twin sword staff, Demoness was already taking swipes at her- the first was a typical horizontal cut with the right sword and the second was going the opposite direction as the left sword was held underhanded. Thankfully, like some invincible Chinese martial artist, Hit-Girl was able to dodge both and retreat backwards in full flight. Grabbing hold of a tea cup, she threw it at the Demoness expertly to slow her attacks, but it did little to buy her time. Despite this, as she was running around the perimeters of the room with the Demoness at her tail, she was able to take out her sword staff and attach them together.

Turning around abruptly and smoothly into a crouching position, Hit-Girl thrust one end of her weapon into Demoness, but the villain merely did a twisting jump to her right, which was also a counter-attack as she swung her sword at Hit-Girl in mid-air. Sensing this, Hit-Girl did a block, and it worked, at the cost of her sword-staff. It was at this time that I knew we were losing- that I should help, only I couldn't. I tried standing up, but any movement would cause too much pain- I nearly fainted after that first try. A sadistic smile formed on Demoness' face- she had detected a weakness in Hit-Girl's position. She adjusted her grip on her left blade so that she was holding it upright.

"Mind-! Au-ahh!!!" I screamed feebly in a vain attempt to warn my friend, but my voice did not carry through to her- with one lung popped, I shouldn't even be able to shout. Pain shot up in my chest immediately after I disobeyed my body's warning to cease moving. It felt like a heart attack, except it was something worse than a heart attack as it never stops.

Like a massive scissor or pincer, the Demoness swung her Katana-like swords sideways aimed at Hit-Girl's head in opposing directions. It was a fatality strike, something that should have existed only in Mortal Combat, as far as my imagination and limited experience could tell me. I was expecting the worst, worst as in Hit-Girl's head rolling on the floor towards me, but thankfully that did not happen. Still crouching with one knee on the floor, Hit-Girl blocked the 'scissor attack' with the two damaged halves of her twin sword staff; however the smirk on Demoness' vampire face did not fade. With all her might, she gave Mindy a hard straight kick in the face. The world seemed to stop at that moment, when I heard the sickening crack issuing from Hit-Girl's neck. Even horrified wasn't the word to describe what I felt at that exact moment.

My God sister fell backwards, yelping, just as horror-struck as I am. Blood was pouring from her mouth and nose. She was completely, utterly, officially steamrolled over. With a broken neck, weapon and will, she was totally incapacitated. A burst of laughter came from the Demoness as she stood there watching the fruits of her labour, pleasure that only a sadist could feel.

"That was way too easy..." The Demoness cackled as she sheathed her left sword, while Hit-Girl was nearly delirious with understated agony on the floor. As for me, I was proverbially wetting myself over the puncture wound in my chest, but I could move and think enough to find a way to help Hit-Girl.

"Fuck you!" Was all Mindy could appropriate as her conqueror stood looming over her, one deadly giant scalpel in one surgeon's hand.

"I'd say that was still a thrill while it lasted." The Demoness continued to mock the badly wounded Hit-Girl as she lay there helpless, in too much in pain to even cry or moan, way too out of shape to even writhe in it. As I looked around, I found a magazine that Mindy had dropped, close to one of her pistols. With all the energy I could muster, I crawled towards them, ignoring the hole in my left lung. I tried remembering the time when I rescued my first victim. I tried psyching myself into thinking that this was no different. It worked, at least for the next 10 inches before another surge of deep, piercing pain hit me, "I've always wanted a little bitch to torture..." My arch-nemesis began slashing at Mindy with her sword- I could hear the cries of pain and the giggles of disturbing joy that would make the joker look like a birthday party clown as I made my way towards the pistol.

"Well, enough play for one day- time for a nap, Hit-Girl..." Like everything else to do with the Demoness, the way she said it was as sickening as any kid could ever go- beyond Hannibal Lector and way beyond any Satan-incarnate kid in the world like Damien. I knew it was nothing good, the way she articulated her words in such deadly sweetness. I took a lunge at the gun as the Demoness held her sword under-handed with both hands execution style. I could hear Hit-Girl gasp a potentially final breathe as I loaded the gun in my hand.

I whipped around and fired without caring to aim or whatever- there was simply no time... And I caught the Demoness in the head. Blood and brain matter spurted out from the exit wound on the opposite side of her skull, and she collapsed heavily onto the wooden floor, away from Hit-Girl and me, lifeless for once. Now I know how movie heroes feel, after finally triumphantly disposing of their ultimate oppose. As if all the pain in the world had disappeared in one magical moment, I stood up and ran towards Hit-Girl to check on her- for all I knew then she could already be at her father's side.

"You okay?" I knelt down beside the mangled Hit-Girl and checked on her- a broken neck, many damn cuts. She had never really seen worse before, considering that she depended on agility to live through a day- it was no wonder she could barely take it; she was barely conscious at all.

"What do you fucking think?" Hit-Girl, despite her condition, managed to smile a victor's smile- she was glad it's over. It was tough talk from a Tom boy, but it was also an unintended double speak.

"C'mon, let's get you to a hospital..." I said as I lifted her up slowly the way a person would do so with a baby. With one arm cradling her neck and back, the other under her knee, I tried to lift her up gently so that I would not aggravate her unstable injuries any further...


	6. Chapter 6: An End at Dawn Part 2

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 6: An End at Dawn Part.2**

"Wait... Remove my mask first; we can't afford to be seen this way."

"Oh yeah..." By mask, she was referring to uniform. I did as I was told. Hit-Girl had always been right about many things anyway, considering her skills, knowledge and experience in the vigilante trade. Pinching her face band around the nose area, I gave it a tug, tried to slide it over her head slowly to avoid hurting her neck any further, "What... The... Fuck?"

It was then that I found out that her face band was part of her face, or that her face was her mask. I pulled it up even further slowly, stricken by fear and bewilderment- I dared not pull it up too fast unless I want to see how a naked skull looks like, yet she didn't appear to react to her face being torn off, so I gave a rough tug, and off came Hit-Girl's face, and underneath was the Demoness...

"Surprised?" She asked rhetorically before proceeding to bite me in the neck, her metal fangs sinking deep into my Jugular vein, and I screamed like never before, not from the pain but from the terror of finally feeling how it was like to be a vampire's victim...

I bolted upright in bed, feeling the same terror and pain as in the nightmare I had experienced. Yep, it was all a dream, some odd product from a mix of fighting the Demoness in real-life, getting the snot beaten out of me with half the blows aimed at the head, and some serious thinking I dedicated towards my new nemesis.

I was never a dreamer. My sleeps were, for years at a time, a black void. Once I fall asleep, I would wake up the next moment finding out that I was nearly late for school. Yet, this time, it felt like Nightmare on Elm Street- so vivid, so not random. It seemed meaningful, unlike the last dream I had of Barney the dinosaur and Elmo from Sesame Street duking it out a few years back when I was so much younger and less obsessed with superheroes.

'Just a dream', I thought as I tried to forget the blood and violence still quite fresh in my head, 'Just a more realistic version of Barney versus Elmo.' Looking at the time, I realised that it was still early at 8am- my father should be back anytime now, and going back to sleep was not an option as my head was throbbing like Superman's with Kryptonite. Automatically, I reached for the remote control and switched on the television- it was a superhero's reflex, to update myself with new intelligence so that I would know what to do next.

"-Was just a typical midnight on Skyscraper Benson when office workers burning the midnight oil heard gunshots and called the police. What the cops responding to the call found was not typical mob activity however." The news reporter in the set said before the scene switches to the same rooftop that Demoness and I was on.

"We found 4 dead bodies, one belonging Red Mist and the other 3 were his paid thugs. The evidences suggested that they were killed by a vigilante aged anywhere between 10 to 16, though she'd have to be a small 16." Coincidentally, it was Sergeant Marcus on the screen as public relations- he was most likely in charge of the crime scene. Behind him, several policemen were busy putting up tapes, lights and canvas to preserve the evidences and crime scene, "Beside the point, we know that home grown superhero Kick-Ass and the vigilante Hit-Girl are involved."

"The police had released the CCTV footage of the confrontation in the hopes that the public could aid in the identification and capture of the girl who took the law into her own hands. Be advised, the video is deemed to be violent and disturbing..." The news reporter continued to read off her script underneath the camera before the television switches to the footage she was babbling about...

The camera was just above the entrance to the rooftop floor. The time was shown as 11:50pm when three masked thugs entered the arena in a single file, one sporting a shotgun and the other two holding pistols- typical unwitting crooks that could be found in any comic books or real life gangs. Like SWAT cops, they fanned out in and off camera. When they were done, they stood guard flanking the entrance, which was when Red Mist appeared. After briefly surveying the roof top almost like how a mob boss would, he turned to his men.

"Now we'll just wait for that loser to come. When he does, just jump on him but don't kill him! I want to beat the crap out of him before..." Red Mist nodded in the direction of the guy with the shotgun, "I let you blast that fucker's face so even his momma won't recognise him." After reminding his men of the plan, Red Mist strolled over to the ledge opposite of the entrance, sat down and smoked a cigarette. Red Mist was holding a Katana- from previous pictures shot that included him, it was his trademark close range weapon.

It was 5 minutes later when the Demoness showed up- the news programme had accelerated the footage up to just before she appeared. There was a sudden flash- probably from a flashbang, before the albino entered through the entrance. With her dual pistols, she shot and killed the first two thugs on opposite sides of the entrance while they were still recovering from the blinding effects of the flashbang. The third hired gun, the one with the shotgun, trained his weapon upon the ghost girl but missed as the vigilante, with her hands and pistols forming an X, had knocked his gun upwards, so the shotgun pellets went overhead. Using the milliseconds she had, she then proceeded to gun him down using most of her ammo incessantly, unloading an uncountable number into his chest, missing his heart perhaps on purpose, before putting a final bullet in his head.

Red Mist pulled out his own pistol, a rather huge silver piece, but he was too slow- After dispatching of his lieutenant, she fired a bullet at his piece, knocking it out of his hand. It was at this point that I realised that everything she did was always for a dark reason- and she loves to get up close and personal, and she adores inflicting as much distress and agony as possible.

"Hit-Girl? Kick-Ass sent you, didn't he?" Red Mist jabbed his finger at the darkly dressed superheroine, or more appropriately, his fellow supervillain. He was more angry than afraid, a huge mistake on his part.

"No, I'm not that pussy." The Demoness said as she holstered his pistols and drew out her right sword, holding it with both her hands, mirroring the only weapon Red Mist had left- his trademark Katana.

"Then who the fuck are you?" Red Mist unsheathed his own sword, a large Katana that his father left behind, throwing away the sheath without a care except to destroy the albino before him.

"Me? I'm your worst nightmare." With that, she charged at Red Mist, her sword held diagonally downwards, ready to slash upwards from below, which was what she started the fight with. Red Mist blocked it expertly- he had been training. For the first 10 seconds it was a perfect match between the two costumed kids, but after those 10 seconds of chaotic harmony, the Demoness was able to land a small cut on Red Mist's left upper arm, causing the young mobster to yelp in pain. As if a referee had called for a short break, they backed away from each other after that. Red Mist was cupping his fresh wound while his enemy was grinning, as if she could taste the pain she so enjoyed.

"You'll pay for that!" Was Red Mist's battle cry before he jumped back into action with his Katana over his head. Running head long at the Demoness, he swung his Katana straight downwards at her, but missed when the latter jumped backwards effortlessly, as light as the wind. Undeterred and unlearnt about his enemy's skill, he took another swing at her, but was given a clean cut through the muscle in his left upper arm, rendering it lifeless. It all went downhill from there. As if drugged, the Demoness went full out with Red Mist as she began to snicker at her food.

Red Mist was starting to back away, which was the very first wise thing he did- the Hit-Girl knock-off took two hacks at him but missed by bare hair widths when he did so. She shifted her stance and placed her razor-sharp sword over her head, bringing it down on Red Mist, who blocked it but had his Katana knocked out of his right hand- one hand was simply not enough to withstand the powerful blow. Suddenly finding himself unarmed, Red Mist took off for the exit, but on his second step, his left calf was split in two by the Demoness. Needless to say, he fell face-first onto the cement floor. His torturer proceeded to stab him in the shoulder blade before kicking him around the ribs to turn him over.

"I'll have it for free." The Demoness started cutting him up. Despite the cctv archive video's poor quality, anyone could tell that she was enjoying every second of it. Christ tried to shield his face when the Demoness aimed a slash at his face, but she severed the feeble limb anyway before slicing his identity up. By the time she was done, he was unrecognisable, and had his chest not been rising and falling in a half-dead rhythm, anyone would think he was KIA. Regardless, the girl went on to straddle him around the chest before delivering her KA-BAR into his throat. This was where I came in, and out like a first-timer superhero. I'm sure this part is familiar so I will skip it. One thing that almost stopped my heart was when my mask was removed- thank God for low-quality CCTV security cameras. Much hoo-hah was raised about this, but everyone considers this 'clue' to Kick-Ass' identity impossible to use.

After the cctv video footage was shown, the news program returns to the familiar set of the newswoman where she continued to articulate the story to most of New York, "Who is this second young heroine, and does she have anything to do with the elusive Hit-Girl? Official sources say she could simply he Hit-Girl, or a mercenary in the service of a rival gang. Despite her hand in essentially crippling the D'Amico crime family, the police are openly condemning the young vigilante, citing her violence against Kick-Ass as an example of how vigilantism out of control could destroy law and order."

"In related news, the action up on the rooftop of Benson Skyscraper has unmasked the city's first superhero turned supervillain, Red Mist. The criminal in leather tights had been notorious for street violence and high profile crime such as the robbing of the Bank of Asia- an estimated loss of US$5 million was reported. Investigations had lead to the conclusion that he was in fact the notorious Frank D'Amico's son, Chris D'Amico, based on DNA analysis and dental matches." The newswoman droned on articulately. It was old news, stuff that I already knew. In the back of my mind, I was screaming for the TV to give me something that I did not know, such as a clue to the whereabouts of the Demoness so that I could either avoid her or as my dream suggested, plot against her with Hit-Girl's help. With Red Mist six feet under unexpectedly, I had found a new nemesis, and it was not for the sake of just having someone to fight against.

The Demoness was bat shit insane, a total nut bag that cares little about who she kills, no matter how good or bad they were. I'm the meek sort, and human life isn't something to play with. The Demoness was the complete opposite, and if I don't stop her, who will? The police? Sure, they could stop her, but they would every tiny bit of help they could get- besides, it was my life on the line as well. 'Let's just say you're supper...' Was what she said, which meant eventually she will work her way towards me.

Hazy memories of my nightmare was starting to crawl back up to me- the way she easily steamrolled over Hit-Girl the way a rather graceful tank would against a rat stuck in a mousetrap. The way she bit into my neck with her metal fangs, which I believe exists in her real sailor mouth as I had caught a glimpse of it during my losing fight with her, was what I so do not want to happen. She was a real nightmare, and she will be the same object of fear to millions of other citizens unless I stop her.

"-The police expects crime rates to fall after this mixed blessing, but is aware that the D'Amico remnants and new bloods are still at large, and so are the unlawful vigilantes Hit-Girl and as the police now names her, the Demoness, after her biblically sinful tendency to drink blood and hurt or kill with pleasure-"As if by divine intervention, the police and me are on the same tangent- we called the Demoness the same thing. I hated how they were demonising Hit-Girl as well however, "-The public is warned to report any suspicious individuals and activities that may be related to these two under aged 'superheroines'."

After watching the news turning its big headed attention to a man with a testicular tumour that bloated the size of his privates, I switched the television off in quiet contemplation. For ten minutes I sat there, watching the morning sky behind my windows- no plan came into mind, other than a simple street patrol by night, and research by day.


	7. Chapter 7: Stepping Stone

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 7: Stepping Stone**

My hands were tied for the next few days and nights- there was no way I could even get within a mile's radius close to the Demoness. The most I could do was to watch the bread crumbs fall from between her fingers by day and patrol for nothing by night. She had been leaving a trail of violence in her wake. The facts does not jump in your face, but the signs were everywhere. The police knew it, the reporters and journalists knew it. I knew it.

The Demoness had been going after both the police and the D'Amico empire, or what's left of it, as if they were a lump together under the umbrella of evil. She had been going after the little guys, the Sergeants and petty criminals first, before moving upwards in both the big, black tree and the New York police chain of command. She was after something, everyone knew it.

I have to admit though, if it weren't for my buddies, I would never have known why. Sure, we were all internet warriors and proud of it, but three heads are always better than one. Plus, they had way more time to dig up the juiciest worms; they weren't the ones to be awarded gashes and bruises in the solar plexus every night for fighting on the side of justice...

**Atomic Comics Cafe, Monday Afternoon...**

"So have you guys heard all this fuzz about this Demoness girl?" I brought the topic up after waiting almost impatiently for Todd and Marty to finish debating about American Idols- who would be the next Idol? I tried to appear as oblivious to the world at large around me as possible.

"You mean Todd's new love interest?" Marty said mockingly in an attempt to piss the other member of the trio off. It almost worked, unlike how my fake ignorance, for once, worked, "You've been living under a rock? She's one of those who actually made the cut as a superheroine."

"Superheroine? What? She killed several off-duty policemen AND their families!" I argued, shocked that my friends worshipped her for being on the other side of the law, "How's that heroic?"

"Well, from what I heard they were crooked cops, buddy." Marty debated in favour of the Demoness. The way I saw it, it was a failed statement as innocent souls were sent on their way to heaven as well, "She's doing us a favour."

"How on Earth is it a favour when women and children were killed in the making of the fuckin' film?" By the boobies and little whiners, I meant the families of the corrupted officials who were murdered in the most grotesque fashion. I was starting to blow my top, especially when I thought about an officer's beheaded baby, "How's beating up Kick-Ass a favour to the world? Seen the news and talk shows lately?"

"It's understandable. Kick-Ass and Hit-Girl could've killed her parents for all we know, man, in his hit against Frank." Todd reasoned dismissively, "Reminds me of Hit-Girl. What would you have done if dad or whoever gets killed one fine day when you're just starting to understand erection?"

"Okay..." I pretended to go along with their line of thought. Taking a sip of coffee as I worked out on what to chat about next, I struck gold quickly, "Any idea what she's trying to accomplish?"

"Obviously, she's trying to clean the city up; as in, really clean it up." Marty was quick to give his views. He seemed quite sure of his interpretation.

"Dude, its not about cleaning the city up. I bet it's revenge- I mean look at her, she's mutilating everyone she attacks." Todd corrected Marty- I was starting to be able to tell what he meant when he referred to the Demoness as Todd's new lover interest.

"Whatever, what I do know for sure is she's taking on the gang from the ass. She's a pro, that's how the police works too- bust a few low-lives here and there and eventually someone'd spill the beans." Todd added to my new found treasure trove of knowledge. Knowing these guys, they must had plucked up their info from a mix of some rarely heard of website or channel- and the popular ones like Youtube and BBC. That is not to say their sources were unreliable. Quite the opposite- they were as reliable as the experts who gave them their source.

**The following night...**

Needless to say, I was motivated all the more to take to the streets as Kick-Ass, and so I did. Before going off, I had to do some thinking- with not even the simplest clues as to where my nemesis would be, I would have to lower my expectations. No saving the world from a nest of giant ants or an incoming meteorite. Just regular street patrols, the same mission as the most common ones I took on in the good old days. To supplement my foot patrols, I've included a radio set that could tune in to both civilian and police frequencies, the same kind that Spiderman and Batman used. Guess where did I get it? Yep, good old dad.

My website in Myspace was all dusted up, with one huge announcement that I have returned to 'full-time' duty. In addition to the feature for any damsel in distress to cry for help, I had added another that allows anyone to give tips on criminal hot spots and hideouts.

Emails for a cry of distress and tip-offs goes into different email accounts. It was one way I figured may allow me to learn of where the Demoness could be. Learning from Red Mist, I've decided to crack my piggy bank for an Iphone so that I could reach Myspace anywhere, anytime I please.

With everything set, I climbed out of the bedroom window once my dad shouts a farewell from the living room. With the walkie-talkie, my range beyond hearing would be extended to a mile or twice of that.

The Demoness was a criminal, a supervillain, and the evil sort would mix with their own kind, or at least that was the theory anyone would know. Taking a taxi down to one of the more crime-ridden parts of the city, I had decided to start my search there, one block at a time, ears to the radio and eyes on every window, door or vandalised department store.

It was only at 1 am, just when I was about to give in when I heard a police report on a felony in progress- just across the street from me, in a pawn shop.

All I could think of was the Demoness, so I made a rush for the pawn shop, even when a few pieces of the jigsaw puzzle did not fit, but with the same blind faith that drove men to believe in the little green man, I was easily able to reason around them.

Upon entering the store and tripping the customer bell, all I found were two common street robbers, one holding a butter knife, the other an old .45 Colt pointed at the head of the Chinese storeholder.

'Fuck', was all that was in my head before the guy with the gun shifted his aim at me. He was a scrawny man of average height, with a gold tooth amongst yellowish naturals. He wore denim on both upper and lower bodies with a winter hood. When I looked at him, I knew he was quite a dead shot. Thank God I took a plunge sideways or his bullet may not have just grazed me in the leg. Knocking over a candy vendor when I hit the floor, I drew my taser- it was my only chance against an offender who knows his weapon.

"Hiding now aren't cha?" The guy with the pistol mocked. I could hear his footsteps behind me as I quickly got up and leaned against the store shelves I had lunged behind. It felt surprisingly light, light enough to give me a plan. Taking a few steps back, I ran and launched myself at the metal shelves, "You supershit sorts aren't worth a-!" Before he could finish his sentence, the combined weight of me, the shelf and it's second hand contents came crashing down upon him. He was screaming throughout, and there were panicked gunshots, which resulted in holes just an inch away from me and my lungs. I had pinned him down by the end of it, and possibly broke a few sensitive bones.

The second thug had seized the store owner by the hair, and his life by the knife at the throat. He was holding him hostage, and 'Fuck' was still the only thing on my mind- it was my first hostage situation- I hadn't really rehearsed for this yet.

"I swear I'll kill him man!" This guy had the looks of your average dude on the streets- he wore a pair of forgettable green T-shirts with some scraggly pattern round the chest, jeans and a pair of brown leather shoes. He had a moustache and hood. He looked more desperate than anything however, "Don't you take one step further!" Was all he needed to say to halt me dead in my tracks.

"Let- Let him go..." Was all I could utter as the victim's life was on the line. I could see rubies dripping down the China-man's neck. It was back to square one. I was fishing in uncharted waters again- all this and yet I was hunting for the biggest fish of them all, the Demoness. It was the realisation of the ambition of my operation that gave me strength however- should I falter now, what chance do I have against the pale-skinned ninja?

"I said let him go! Don't be such a God-damn coward!" I shouted demandingly. Another excruciating second passed, and the perp with the knife seemed at a loss of words. His face quaking with emotions, as if tears, grief and stress would erupt from his facial orifices any second now.

"They won't give me time! I couldn't pay up!" The seemingly normal dude explained vaguely as he trembled with untold inner turmoil. I had to admit though, it was only until he spelt everything out for me that my plan was conceived.

"What the hell're you talking about" I asked, trying to strike a balance between fucking rude toughness and justice man, stupid as I am when the obvious way to solve this problem should have occurred to me millions of years before.

"Jun kill him, Tommy! Or we'll-" The gunman with a gold tooth had tried to threaten the hostage taker, but...

"Shut the fuck up!" I was running out of patience. Bystanders were starting to gather outside the shop, watching the drama playing on from the outside, through the store display windows. Handphone cameras were taking down everything and anything transpiring, right down to the fly buzzing around the trapped gunman's head. I could hear the whine of the police siren at a distance- time's almost up.

"We were running into debts! My family! M-my kids!" The artist (he reminds me of one) was starting to panic. His face was having an earthquake rated 9 on the richer scale- there was no way he was faking it, "I took the sharks' money, but their interest rates were a lie!" It was at this point that I knew what to do, what to say.

"Let the man go. Do the right thing, and I'll put in a good word for you with the police." I tried convincing him, but it was obviously not persuasive enough. The sirens were drawing closer, "Look, can't you hear them! The cops are coming! You wanna see your wife and kids again?"

Another few seconds of silence. Admittedly, I was expecting him to either flee, or kill someone, but what came next was even more priceless than the movie adaptation of 300. Little by little, as if slowly absorbing and actually believing in what I said, he lowered his butter knife and handed it to me. Taking the few steps that he originally forbid me to, I took the knife by the blade, waiting for him to let go. Eventually he did, and the large crowd that had been gathering ever since 5 minutes ago went wild, started cheering.

The police came seconds later, as they always did in any superhero media. By then, my taser was already back where it belongs and I was escorting the artist towards them. As two NYPD officers hed us out of the store, breaking through the crowd, I eyed the sky, 'that's two less souls zooming towards heaven'. That was when I caught a glimpse of Demoness on the roof of a nearby building, or rather, at least I think that was her- it could've been anywhere between Hit-Girl and Captain Planet and I still won't know who it was- it was too dark to tell.

'You better be ready for me,' I thought in my euphoria of victory, 'Because I'm coming for you.' In truth, I was just more likely too drugged with one of my rare wins than I was anywhere closer to being a match to the Demoness.


	8. Chapter 8: Development

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 8: Development**

By the time I returned home feeling like a champ, it was already two o'clock in the morning. I had never felt this high in my life- I couldn't even feel the pain in my thigh where the bullet grazed me. I couldn't even feel the aching in my muscles where I exerted the most, where I landed on the shelves after pushing it down to pin the gold-tooth gunman. I felt like Superman, and despite my nocturnal activities, it felt like eight in the morning after an early good night's sleep.

As expected, I couldn't turn off like a stubborn schizophrenic computer, and by the time I fell asleep, it was already five in the morning. It was no wonder I was horrendously late for school, missing whole periods at one go. You know the American education system's reaction- I was given detentions for the whole week for it. It never did do away with my sense of victory though, and the feeling that I was reaching the climax of my very own comic series if my life was one.

Remaining a naive and media-fed teenager the line between serious hero's work and fun had become dotted. I went from thinking, 'I'm doing this to take out Demoness so that people won't have to die anymore' to 'Yeeha! This is fun, let's do this again and again!', or somewhere in between usually. Before you judge what goes through my railroad of thought, hey, at least there's some passion involved.

By the time my dad was out for his usual night shift again, I was out- I had to be. My normal life had become something of a cage, and Kick-Ass was in it. I had no other aims in life by then, only to prowl the streets as my alter ego in search of the elusive Demoness. As excited as I was, I had to call in the cavalry. My new nemesis was too swift, too agile, too strong and far too intelligent for her age. The only person who had even the slightest chance to defeat her had to be Mindy.

**---START OF MESSAGE---**

Hey M, how r u? Have u heard of e news lately? I need ur help. Trying to get Demoness. Call me back soon.

**---END OF MESSAGE---**

In the meantime, with no chance to form some superhero team as the city's roster pool was depleted by fear, pessimism and death by reasons ranging from stupidity to a bat in the face.

**Somewhere Else...**

The door of a silver SUV opens in the middle of New York City, and from inside the vehicle an imposing man climbs out, his eyes wandering in every direction. The further he travels down south from Canada, the more the landscape changes towards the strange side- such was the effect of removing one from the world. The city he knew had changed. The city itself remained dazzling and bustling, but on the buildings around him there were numerous subtle changes only a man such as him could detect. Advertisements of previously unheard of products and brands. Gigantic television screens that were flat dominated the walls of the buildings where previously there were none. Stores selling furniture that looked as if they came from science fiction.

"You have my thanks, John. Your vehicle and company had been wonderful, but I must take my leave." The old man bid farewell as he was half-way out. He paused his exit, waiting for a reply.

"No problem, sir. It is, after all, my job to ferry you here as stable master. But why here?" The chauffeur said as he shook his employer's hand. Unlike his passenger, he was not at all awed by the city- he had been here often, usually to transport students and materials back and forth from the city into Ontario or vice versa.

"I feel the need to know the city again. It has changed its face too much that I dare not call it home." The Grandmaster explained as he got out of his transport completely, "Check in my belongings into the lodging of my choosing."

"Farewell, Grandmaster!" The chauffeur drove off- his goodbyes could barely be heard as he did so, "Come back soon!" And with that, the teacher was left on his own, in the noisy, crowded and blinding streets of his old home, now even more deafening, overpopulated and overwhelming than he remembered- or as much as he remembered.

As he stood there staring around the city he used to know, having the time of his life having clichéd flashbacks about his past, admiring or detesting how much the world had changed in his absence, numerous bystanders and pedestrians were staring at the Grandmaster with the same look he was giving the city. Eventually, as he was taking in his new surrounding, an environment completely the opposite of what he was used to for the past twenty odd years, he had attracted the attention of a policeman on foot patrol.

"Snappy fashion there, mister." The officer said as he looked the Grandmaster up and down, judging him inside out on whether he was here to caused trouble of any sorts. It was then that he noticed the two-handed sword hanging on his heavy belt, "Would you explain the reason why you're carrying that around like Aragorn?" At first, the officer was ignored, but the Grandmaster, slow on the intake as he was already taking too much from the city at large, faced him after the official's words sink in.

"Like who? I do not understand your words, officer." The Grandmaster replied, bewildered by the policeman's strange expression. Times have changed, too much. While only twenty years have passed ever since he had set foot into civilization, it might as well be two centuries.

"Your fucking sword, asshole! Don't play dumb with me, Gandalf!" The officer yelled angrily out of the blue unexpectedly. From wonderment, the swordsman's mood became stern as usual from salvo of insults. Slowly, he reached into his right pocket. As though expecting him to be a suicide bomber, the policeman backed away and pulled out his gun.

"What is the meaning of this!" Unused to how society works anymore, the Grandmaster became confused- he could only blunder as he had lost the knowledge of how law enforcement would react to certain actions, "This is an outrage!"

"Take your hands out of your pocket!" The officer shouted. Crowds oblivious to what was happening were starting to form around the two, curious as to what was happening. At a distance, a policewoman was running towards them- she was perhaps the first official's partner, "Everyone down!" Some did as they were told, many just ran away and watched from a safer distance. Despite feeling oppressed without justice, the Grandmaster did as he was ordered to- even an idiot will never forget the killing potential of a gun.

"Quinn, what the hell are you doing?" The policewoman shouted at the officer pointing his pistol at the Grandmaster.

"He's armed, Sarge! He wouldn't explain and he tried to reach into his right pocket!" The newer policeman explained as he remained where he was, training his weapon on the old man. The policewoman's eyes shifted between the two, as if unsure of who the one in the wrong was.

"What's in your pocket?" The policewoman fixed her gaze on the Grandmaster, as though trying hard to stare into his soul and mind.

"License, officer." Being extra careful this time with his movements and speech, the Grandmaster replied in a tone as friendly as possible, not that it matters. With the kind of life he had led, anyone could tell that he could be dangerous if he wanted to be- the scars, his muscles, the way he dresses and carries himself gave him away. The more experienced police officer stuck her finger into his right pocket and pulled out a slip of aged, torn paper between her index and middle finger.

Opening up the folded, moth-eaten piece of paper, the officer read the slightly faded contents of the ancient document. There were license numbers, addresses, signatures, the credentials of the person and agency that issued the license, and many other details that no one cares. The expiration date was constantly renewed for the past twenty years by the Canadian government. The name was stated as Aldan Bonitus- an average name. In a city full of average, boring and unspectacular men, he was just one of them in a Halloween costume.

"What's with the outfit?" The policewoman asked after waving for her partner to lower his gun.

"It is what I am dressed in on a mundane day out." Aldan replied as he took his paper back, folding it carefully back the way it was, as though it was a relic of ages long forgotten, and slipping it back into his right pocket. The officer looked him up and down again, giving him the look that everyone else was giving him.

"Sorry about my partner here. He's new." She gave his partner another wave. For a brief moment they communicated in facial expressions and gestures. The Grandmaster could tell that the Sergeant was angry and frustrated, while the other police officer was arguing, the way one of his more stubborn students would. When they were done throwing faces at each other, he was finally left alone, "Have yourself a nice day."

After that, the police women muttered something about 'one of those costumed amateur crime fighters'. The Grandmaster could not bring himself to eavesdrop, nor to bother with it, as he was overwhelmed with an array of previously rare sensations beneath the skin, beneath the muscle, concentrated around the heart.

Aldan didn't take off after the officers left as if nothing happened- the incident left him with a cacophony of emotional bruises difficult to put into words, even into thoughts. He felt insulted, and yet the insults were somehow justified. He was angry at these children who ridiculed their elder, yet he was enraged by his own stupidity and ignorance. After a dramatic moment of deep thought, the Grandmaster turned around and walked away...


	9. Chapter 9: Where Paths Cross

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 9: Where Paths Cross**

After having his fill of how much technology has advanced thus far, the Grandmaster hailed a cab so that he may reach the suburban areas of the city- where he used to live. It may be past midnight, but his heart was still burning, his mind kept fresh by a certain longing in his heart. Warming himself to the city, seeing how much it had grown and changed was just the beginning, an appetiser for who he will soon meet. The purpose of his excursion was not just to check on how much time has changed the city, but it was also so that he may see his ex-wife and daughter, who should be twelve according to the letters he received from her.

The taxi driver he hired was an even elder man than he is a scotch-drinking bum who doesn't really fit well with the job he does. After heading the wrong way several times, Aldan was able to finally alight in his neighbourhood, perhaps a little way off from his former address. He would have to walk a mile or two to get to his family of old. After paying the cabby thrice of what could have been the price had he hired a more efficient driver, the teacher got off the reeking old taxi. Almost as lazy as the driver himself, it drove off barely after the customer had closed the back door.

After having a look around, the Grandmaster was able to make out his old neighbourhood- the same one as Dave Lizewski lives in. It took him a bit of time to remember how to return to his home however, and when he did, the old man had to cut through a few alleyways that he was still familiar with.

As a child, he had explored every inch of this neighbourhood. Whenever new houses were built or old ones were replaced, he would be the first one to know. In the early 90s, the suburbia's layout had more or less stabilised, so he could easily navigate his way through without getting lost due to any changes he was unaware of. As he strolled through alleyways after alleyways, street after street, he was always gazing at something to reminiscent upon the distant past. Most things had changed at least slightly, save for the sky. Tears would fill his eyes when he saw his favourite haunts as a young adult vandalised, and joy would fill his lungs when some of them he passed through weren't.

He was always thinking, feeling, until he came upon an alleyway, where there was some scuffling and painful squealing around a bend. He could see the shadows, and it wasn't what he expected. He could roughly tell that the victim was a lean man wearing cargo pants and jacket from the shadow, while the attacker was... much shorter, perhaps draped with a cape of some sort. She had long, flowing hair, and a pair of slightly curved swords which were pinning the victim into the wall through both his shoulders. Being a practical fighter, he was trained to read such subtle clues.

Drawing his very own sword, a large claymore that looks like it came straight out of Braveheart, the Swordmaster sneaked his way towards the source of the commotion close to the wall, being very careful not to knock over any trash or step on any discarded plastic bags- there was no intention to backstab, only the objective of confronting the attacker of the poor man. As he made his way closer to the shadows, depressing thoughts were creeping into his mind- how much his city had changed, and how not all of them were for the better. Crime had certainly diminished compared to the turbulent past, but children weren't wielding such large blades back then, maybe mostly teenagers on crack and beer.

"Don't make me cut off your dick, you fuck!" A girl's voice, rougher beyond anyone's imagination, snarled at the defenceless victim. Aldan knew he had to stop her quick enough or the worst might happen- the man would either have his member or soul removed, "How many men?"

"I don't- hunngh! Know! Honest!" The victim squealed like a pig to the slaughter. In a way, he really was on the way to the slaughterhouse.

"Oh? Oh, really?" The girl chortled menacingly. The Grandmaster could tell that she left the man pinned on the wall and took out something. Flipping the device about, it morphed into a knife- he could remember from his study of bladed weapons that it was a butterfly knife, "How much's your manhood worth?"

"That's enough, little girl." The Grandmaster demanded as he stepped out of the darkness, his massive two-handed sword flashing. Anyone would be intimidated by Aldan's display of force, but apparently the pale girl in black and silver wasn't. Instead, a rather disturbing smirk formed on her face, "Put down that knife, and we'll talk about your future in this fair city."

"What will you do? Spank me?" She said, and without warning or hesitation, she delivered the butterfly knife with expert precision and skill at Aldan. Sensing her non-compliance early, the Swordsman blocked the projectile aimed at his right eye with a horizontal stroke of his giant blade. Drawing her twin blades from the wall and trapped man, the insane (from Grandmaster's point of view) girl charged at him, swords at her side. Whirling around, she brought down both her Asian-styled swords at Aldan like a praying mantis with ten years of martial arts background, but her deadly strike was blocked by an equally skilled block.

After their sword clashed, the Grandmaster pushed the silver-haired girl back through their swords with enough force to throw her backwards, and as she was regaining her balance, he proceeded to twirl around and deliver what could easily have been a fatal slash, but was instead more of a slap with the sword blade as he wanted to incapacitate more than wound. It was dodged deftly as his opponent let herself fall; the blade swept past her face by a mere inch as she fell to the ground and landed softly. As the two sword-fighters were duelling, the wounded victim made a run for safety, clutching both his bleeding shoulders as he did so.

Twisting about into a kneeling position, the apparent twelve-year-old delivered an unexpected 180 degrees slash at the Grandmaster's shin. Had it not been for his greaves, his master right leg could have been severed. Instead, he was knocked off balance; he fell on his right knee, but with proper balance he was able to break his fall without injuring that knee despite his advanced age. By this point, Aldan was unpleasantly surprised by the girl's skill. Taking advantage of his poor position, the girl delivered a twin overhead blow, forcing the Grandmaster to defend himself with an overhead block with his singular claymore.

Her speed and wit was too fast for the old man. Kicking herself into a low jump, she thrust a leg into the Grandmaster's face, knocking him down. Out of desperation, the teacher gave a hard kick from where he was lying, which unexpectedly worked, followed by another smash with his claymore blade as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, aiming to incapacitate again, but it was again easily knocked way out of its arc as it was not a quick blow but a clumsy one reliant on strength by the girl's standard. With his sword too far to his right to block his body, he was in clear danger of anything between dismemberment and death.

The impossibly nimble girl tried for a stab through the Grandmaster's throat, but Aldan still had one small trick of his rare trade up his sleeve. Despite his dependence on swords and strength, he still possess enough in the way of the wind to use it. Dodging the stab, he rolled sideways only to be challenged by a horizontal slash- this he blocked with his armguard, and the follow-up slash as Demoness spun around for a more powerful with her left sword with his claymore over-handed.

There was a brief respite in the young girl's attack and Aldan took advantage of it by kicking her in the face, sending her rolling backwards and on the defensive. As she was recovering, the Grandmaster aimed an overhead blow at her but being especially nimble, she was easily able to avoid it. Sheathing her swords, she pulled out a pistol instead.

"You dishonourable-" was all Aldan could say before a bullet grazed him in the right arm, the explosive pain forcing him to drop his beloved beast of a medieval killer-weapon.

"I'd love to play, but you're boring," she shifted her aim a little as a crazed half-smile formed on her ghastly face.

**Behind Demoness...**

As I was returning home from an uneventful patrol, I was returning home when I saw a wounded guy running out of an alley holding his shoulders as though his arms would pop out. In the alley he was running away for dear life, I heard some grunts, and the swishing of blades as though a martial arts movie was playing inside. Before I even saw her I knew it was the Demoness again- who else could wield a pair of katanas the way Blade did?

By the time I rushed into the alley, one of the Demoness' victims was sitting with his leg sprawled out, in a position that could easily be the end of him. My guess was that he fought her and lost. He was mere seconds from death, so I did the only thing I could think of. I made a dash of faith for her, and launched myself at the twelve-year-old, knocking her down by the old man she was threatening to kill. I laid on top of her and held both her wrists to the ground in an attempt to pin her down, but with an elbow in my badly bruised and yet-to-recover solar plexus she was able to dislodge me and roll me to the side, against the wall. Against my expectations, she ran away soon afterwards. I was thinking along the lines of getting murdered.

"She's after him!" The old man I saved warned me as he was getting up, a giant sword I failed to notice previously in tow. I realised he could be one of us, the 'supers', and chances were, he was a superhero- what with his costume that came straight out of the sets in New Zealand where the Lord of the Rings movies were shot. I could only follow him, it wasn't hard. He was downright cool, along the lines of Aragorn, plus, he had the same goals as I have. Anyone could easily guess that a team up was in order.

The lean dude Demoness was after was in a street after another alleyway. He had ran into an African-American police officer and his partner who were most likely responding to a call made against Demoness. We could hear the voices. I could understand why he was begging to be arrested- it's either the jail cell or a gruesome death by a thousand knives.

We were far too slow, the way superheroes were when up against serial villains. Before we could even see what happened, there were gunshots, and screams. At least one of the three men was down. There was silence followed by another body collapsing and the gangster spilling the beans, then silence again. By the time we were on scene, one of the cops was beheaded, the other peppered with gunshot wounds and the gangster was dying from an open windpipe and stab in the stomach.

The beheaded cop was no doubt beyond saving, but we still had two lives on our heads when the Demoness left with whatever she had came for. A bystander had already called an ambulance, but the two unlikely survivors of the encounter wouldn't last very long. The way I see it, they didn't survive, and neither was their encounter with the devil the worst moment of their lives. Putting their lives in my hands was the worst part. With zero training in first-aid despite all the opportunities in school and community centres, there was nothing I could do, if it weren't for my new superhero friend.

"Check the officer, I will handle this young man." The Boromir knock-off ordered me as he got on his knees and tried to close up the hole in the gangster's throat, but even I know he was a hopeless case. He died within seconds almost from suffocation, but more from the shock that came with excessive bleeding. It was a trademark of my nemesis- slow death, maximum pain. It was a modus operandi that would scare even the Punisher into a full retreat.

"Hey, Daddyoh, this one's alive and..." I paused after realising the gravely wounded officer was Sergeant Marcus- of all the thousands of blues in the city. He was barely conscious, and had bullet holes in both his legs, his right lung and a few around his stomach part of the body (I'm not good with biology). Mindy would be devastated whether he lives or not. I tried pressing down on the chest wound. Wasn't it common sense that if there's a hole in the hull of a ship, you patch it up? My good friend from the Kingdom of Heaven who seems to know what he was doing didn't seem to mind, "... He's someone I know..."

The ambulance arrived ten disappointing minutes later. It was a miracle that no one else died, thanks in part to the Grandmaster, as he named himself.


	10. Chapter 10: Paragon

I don't know if its an isolated case or something, but the contents of this chapter might be too much for some people, read at your own discretion.

**

* * *

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**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 10: Paragon**

'No! Shut up, bitch! Murderer! I said pipe down! You killed- Shut the fuck up twerp I'm trying to think here!' My mind, a beautiful chaos, races as my heart was divided. A rightfully caged bird within me seeks to take over but I won't let it. This was way too fun way too satisfying. The Blood the Pain! My food for the day a drink from the true fountain of youth.

More will fall under my beautiful silver angels my priceless blades but for now a little rest. After speeding down the streets and changing in a corner with some stuff in my bag I hailed a customerless cab and ordered him to my safehouse.

As he took me there I couldn't stop thinking how much I wanted to sink my fangs of war into his neck it was tempting oh so lovely tempting- the blood, the sweet sweet crimson juice of my precious pleasure the pain the scream that would come. Call me a sadist I am one and I'm proud of being one. There's nothing wrong with being different is what everyone would say. It was unfortunate that he's driving me like a little slave to my home for the night.

Blood for blood I'm born into evil I am evil there is nothing wrong with evil as through evil I live to bring good for myself and maybe to everyone else whatever. When I came into the world my family was torn shredded rend apart by ravenous dogs and crows I will avenge them for them and myself my sister couldn't do shit so here I am. I revel in it anyway its her lost that she refrain from the heavenly orgy I experience savour enjoy.

By the time I reached home it was a couple of hours after the witching hour my favourite time of day. With all the success I gained I decided to try my luck with the taxi driver who happens to be cute but he pushed me away he was lucky that I did not kill him as I may reveal the location of my hideout so I just scattered the green bills he was enslaved by all over his fucking face before leaving. He screamed profanity but its music to my ears rap I love it all the same.

Upon reaching home I knew exactly what would complete the day. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out my second butterfly knife and started swishing it around beautiful mesmerizing one of my many dear friends who would grant me the greatest door to nirvana.

'No! Not this again! Please! You'll enjoy it you'll love it. Fuck you!' Placing the knife below a scar on my left upper arm after rolling up my black sleeve, I hesitated unexpected why? 'Let go! Never! Trust me it's a thrill. Go to hell, bitch! You're too weak.'

Around the blade the crimson juice begins pouring- the tip of the knife digs deeper and deeper and deeper. The pain, oh sweet, sweet awakening pain- the substance that makes life go around. Eventually after the stab dessert i went ahead with the slicing main course my enemies were pathetic they couldn't even land a single hit at me I had to do it myself the blood was flowing down my arm after I sliced and disengaged. Bloodletting and pain's good for your health, 'YOU FUCKING SON OF A-! You mean daughter?'

I tasted sweet and I knew I needed more stripping myself naked down to the underoos I climbed into the bathtub ignoring the faint amusing shrieks screams howling inside me and I started cutting myself in the thigh, the shoulder, breast, everywhere my body won't mind a bit of decorating the ancestors does it anyway its meant to be fun and holy. It was not even enough to make me feel woozy far from it but it was enough for the night of celebration.

**The following morning...**

Home at last. Hauling her luggage in, Mindy took a step into her stepfather's house for the first time in a week. The bungalow had a certain semblance of warmth to it, partly due to the yellow curtains that allowed only mostly yellow sunlight to enter. There was a fireplace in the living room she was in, surrounded by comfortable sofas, but something's missing.

Switching on her cellphone for the first time in days, a few messages were announced, some from Dave, others from his stepfather, and a third one from an unknown number:

**---START OF MESSAGE---**  
Mindy. I no u're angry with me, n I no ur pain with ur dad gone n everything. Im sorry that I slapped u yesterday. I'm still sorry about ur dad. If it weren't 4 u, I woulda killed myself a long time ago. He wz cool, a true superhero that would put batman 2 shame. U could pit a thousand Kick-Asses against him n he'd still win. I wz a klutz n I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

I luv u. Ur a sister 2 me. Ull always b my sister, that is if u still want me around.

Anyway, I gotta go now. There's something I gotta do. Cya.  
**---END OF MESSAGE---**

**---START OF MESSAGE---**

Hey M, how r u? Have u heard of e news lately? I need ur help. Trying to get Demoness. Call me back soon.

**---END OF MESSAGE---**

**---START OF MESSAGE---**

Hey Mindy, how are you doing so far? Enjoying your holiday? I'm worried about you. Message back soon. I love you. : )

**---END OF MESSAGE---**

**---START OF MESSAGE---**

You are mine to take : )

**---END OF MESSAGE---**

"Who the fuck is this?" Rhetorics aside, Mindy proceeded quickly upstairs to where her room was, the wooden stairs creaking under the combined weight of herself and her baggage. Dave needs her help; she could not bring herself to abandon him as they were quite close.

She remembered the tight slap he had given her on Friday. Putting her hand where it was administered, tears started falling again but then again she knew that somehow it was for her own good. Her eyes dried and she wiped the tears on her cheeks. She would help Dave, but not until she found out where her guardian was- Marcus was supposed to be having the whole of Wednesday off for the week as he had wanted to take her to the park, have some family time that she sorely missed. Tears started forming again but she shook them off- she had missed her family but what confused her was how sensitive she had become, 'is this how it's like to be fucking normal? Hurts more than a Taekwondo kick in the face...'

Reaching for her cellphone, Mindy began texting, 'D, missed you. Will meet' but stopped mid-message when the doorbell rang. For once in her short life, in some dawn of enlightenment, Mindy raced out of her room guided by her emotions and slid down the banisters accompanying the stairs. Hoping to see her stepfather whom she was so attached to, Mindy yanked open the door clumsily in the rush, excitement negating the dexterity of her fingers.

What stood before her had uniforms. Blue ones that would accompany any NYPD officers on patrol, but there was no daddy accompanying the uniform, and there were two officers instead of just one. Mindy could only stare wide-eyed at them, her mouth slightly gaping in horror as instinctually, she knew what news they bring.

Hit-Girl could take a few bullets in the chest without uttering, moaning or whining, or numerous deep gashes from a machete, and even dozens of black-belt chops and kicks, but a second family tragedy was one too many for her- it was the secret silver bullet in her legend. Her wail was heard by all her neighbours, asleep or awake.


	11. Chapter 11: Mindset

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 11: Mindset**

His former home in New York was close within earshot, and now it seemed distant in time and leagues. The police had taken Aldan to the closest station for questioning regarding the incident that cost a hardworking policeman and a young gangster their lives. Kick-Ass was released earlier, and immediately he left after communicating to the elder master several means of reaching the kid.

The Grandmaster felt even more insulted, having all his weapons and protective gear taken from him. Even his cloak was removed from his shoulders for fear of 'Concealed Arms' as the policemen put in charge of him had said. At the very least however, he was put in a clean room with a Styrofoam cup of coffee between him and a detective.

"So let me get this straight- You drove all the way from Canada on an SUV, came here 'questing' for your long-lost family and happened to run into that wacko girl that the media dubbed 'Demoness... And Kick-Ass in your epic journey of soul-searching?" The rather dismissive detective of an equal to the Grandmaster droned for the umpteenth time.

Aldan, despite bearing the wisdom and patience that came with his chosen lifestyle and age, was starting to grow weary and frustrated of being asked the same inquiries repeatedly, and having to give the same answers over and over again. Mentoring the worse, single most reluctant and troublesome student in his academy to the north was a far more soothing experience compared to this.

"So why the get-up?" The rather casual detective asked, his eyes fixed to his notepad without lifting, as though a television was installed into the tiny little booklet.

"I travel in such a 'get-up' like this every time without fail, for danger lurks everywhere, and it is expected of me as a Grandmaster Swordsman." The detective nodded mechanically as he scribbled away like a machine- he was a test of patience like no other, "I have a license."

"Yes, I've seen it." After letting loose a long sigh of release as though he was the one suffering, the old detective closed his notepad and spent a few seconds in contemplation before he spoke again, "That'd be it. Want another cuppa coffee?" The detective offered but his equal in age rejected it, being a tea appreciator rather than a dependent caffeine consumer.

After leaving the interview room, Aldan was offered a ride by another officer, and his accepted it- he was sent back to his suburban home of many yesteryears go. Somehow, after his ordeal was over, the object of his quest really was close within earshot.

Ten long minutes passed before he could see his home again however- an old, discoloured, abandoned estate with many fallen decorative and fences that could no longer keep out the elements and strangers.

Upon stepping out of the police cruiser and breathing the familiar air from the home of his distant, near-forgotten young adult days, the anger and sadness, the spice of life. The Grandmaster could all but recall everything but the reason why he chose to exile himself. Setting foot into the weed-infested, overgrown jungle of a lawn, Aldan realised that he could see everything as they were, crystal clear, unperturbed. It was his utopia, his haven- he was home. A gust of wind blew, caressing his face, rearranging his cloak like a careful lover. The teacher remembers his wife, a woman slightly shorter than he (half a head), with the most angelic if not rare bronze eyes. Graceful as an Elf, a dancer of talents with pale skin.

Opening a door that no longer exists, or was flat on the ground after years of neglect, vandalism and burglary, he entered the living room- A white, noiseless void presented itself to him- it was pure peace. He was his wife would spend hours together just talking in the company of the fire- or without. They would laugh and share their sufferings or joy as if they were one. Floating through the living room without a sound despite his heavy build and equipment, he went right into the kitchen, where he saw his wife at the cooking counter, cutting up vegetables- He loved her cooking, he could in fact smell it there and then...

"Grandmaster!" A rather familiar young voice warned Aldan, snapping him out of his moment of remembrance. The figure looming before him was not his wife, but what looked like a teen junkie girl high on some substance on trend at present. Wielding a rusty chopper in one hand, she tried bring half the old man's face down with her weapon, seeing him as an intruder to 'her' den, but there was a long sword between him and decapitation- his apprentice's.

"Michael!" His voice was that of surprise and anger- anger as his student had disobeyed him, and as a consequence probably lost days of hard training and learning that could've brought him many steps closer to another level of enlightenment. Realising that she was very likely to be outmatched, the druggie backed away. Pointing the sharp end of his blade at her, Michael warned her, telling her without words that lethal force would be used if she chose to abandon the little shred of rationality in her.

As expected, dropping her butcher knife, she ran away screaming through the back door, bringing with her two more of her weed-smoker friends who were stoned in a corner, her steps heavier and clumsier than as expected of a young woman of her small, lean size, "What in God's name are you doing here?" The Grandmaster demanded of his young apprentice.

"Sir, I-" Was all the apprentice could utter before he was cut down verbally. He was of no match to Aldan, both in words and in swordplay, or in virtually every field but those his teacher considered unnecessary diversions from the discipline of the sword.

"Fail to listen, and you will never acquire the right to command." The Grandmaster quoted from a source only he would know. Turning away from his apprentice, he walked out the kitchen and back into the white void that was the living room. His wife was sitting there, by the fire, but of course that was in his mind. In reality, the couches were ruined and the fireplace, cold and dark.

"Grandmaster, I just want to serve you." The apprentice tried justifying himself, spurred by his loyalty towards his teacher and his secret desire to apply what he had learnt, as any young rash men would.

"And what of your education?" As if the apprentice's presence in New York was a trauma, Aldan asked absently, almost as if he was never actually there. Instead, the man of advanced age was occupying his mind mostly with past affairs. Climbing the rotting stairs, he made his way towards the 2nd level of his home with his apprentice following closely behind.

"I could learn important things, many things while I aid you, sir, please!" The apprentice begged as his master peered over his living room, remembering the joys of the past. Minutes passed; Michael joins his master in viewing his home from above.

"Years passed, and still a thread exists between my family and me." The Grandmaster muttered, seemingly in a daze. His eyes were following shadows invisible to everyone else around him, "I had many followers in camp, yet I return home."

"I will allow you to aid me, since you are already here." The Grandmaster said, suddenly facing Michael, in a moment of clarity.

**In a hospital elsewhere...**

As Mindy enters the hospital room, the familiar symphony of a patient's heartbeat as reflected on a monitor greets her as it had greeted me when I came along, adding stress as far as I could easily tell to an already nervous and upset girl. Inside the ward, Marcus was bandaged all over, especially in the numerous places he was shot. Unconscious from his trauma and beyond incapacitation, he was hooked up to numerous machines that I cannot seem to name.

I was sitting next to her stepfather, my face a map of concentration and a history book of my previous battles- I was surprised no one suspected that I was the 'green condom' or 'Kick-Ass' depending on who's asking. Mindy was far worst off- she was pale with shock and disbelief, eyebags previously foreign to her young face had found their way under her eyes as if to carry the heavy burden of emotions that had befallen her which she's not as used to carrying as guns and knives.

The policemen who came previous had said that she had fainted earlier when the news was delivered to her, unable to take the strain of loss any long.

After losing her biological and very close father who was Big Daddy to D'Amico's executioners, she had been steadily losing her battle-hardened, hard-trained iron grip on her psychological health and emotions, so much as losing her refined tasted for killing bad guys soon after avenging Big Daddy.

The school psychiatrist had diagnosed her with clinical depression four months ago, and it was then that she began her reign of terror in school. Beyond that, no one knows what's been happening in her mind- but everyone sure knows that something inside of her had died all along, I could tell. Now that Sergeant Marcus was on the brink of death, I'd think her heart was too, and all I knew then that somehow, no matter how socially inept I was, I'd have to try salvaging the situation.

Mindy was a whole different person from how she used to be. Once upon a time, she was an energetic ten year old with a penchant for bloody justice bought by knives and guns. Now, she seemed smaller than she used to be, shrunken by heart troubles it seems. Her eyes were red and puffy with from what was once deemed impossible for a girl like her.

After coming in, she seemed to freeze for a second before striding up to her dearest stepfather and collapsing before him. Clutching him tightly as though he would be whizzed away by an unknown force anytime soon, Mindy buried her face into Marcus' chest. The impossible happened again- and I sure as hell don't know what to do. What would you do if Superman collapsed in tears before you?

Sure, I used to treat her like my little baby sister, bugs and bedtime company and all, once- I don't know her anymore. Times had changed since she gave me that kick in the balls.

With a trembling hand, I started stroking her curvy blonde hair, and, contrary to expectations, it didn't end up fractured in three places. I felt encouraged to treat her even better.

"Hey Mindy... I'm sorry for this..." I said tactfully, or as tactful as I could. I knew I hadn't said the wrong things when my teeth remained where they were. I continued sliding my hands through her hair, in a consoling manner I never knew I possessed any knowledge of.

"I'll fucking kill her for this!" She blurted out as she was snivelling and heaving breaths between her ill-controlled crying. After that, I don't know what I did but it just seemed like the right thing to do- it was another one of those moments that would make a great movie scene.

Getting off my chair into a squat next to her, I whispered closely into her ears, "And I'll help you..." It was all I could think of- how'd you make an assassin feel any better about her father's tragedy? As if deeply touched, her crying grew heavier- and I couldn't stand seeing the great Hit-Girl in shambles. Gently, I put a hand on her shoulder, urging her to back away and catch her breath for a bit before she hyperventilates or something. She fell on me instead.

Seeing that she had never really cried this much before, I could imagine it to be hard work for her. She fell on me, pushing me into a sitting position against the chair with her leaning against me as if we were in a park, leaning against some giant tree from Winnie the Pooh.

"I'll fuck her up..! I'll... Fuck her up!" She muttered hysterically as she was still crying buckets. I was rocking her like how I imagine a big brother would, not that I had any real ideas of how being a brother should be like. I was surprised the orderlies and nurses outside watching hadn't called in the policemen guarding the ward's entrance to separate me from Mindy on charges of molestation. They seemed sympathetic instead, as though they had watched the drama movie of the year.

"And I'll help you like I did before..." I repeated myself. I was running out of ideas on how best to soothe a girl who could kill you at the snap of the fingers. After that I was silent, and I just continued rocking her like some maid who's taking care of a baby, "Hey, It's okay..." If I recall, it took about an hour before she was finally getting a grip on herself.


	12. Chapter 12: Connections

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 12: Connections**

It didn't take very long for Aldan to find ways in searching for his displaced family. For one, he did try visiting his neighbours to see if they know anything on the whereabouts of the Bonitus family- this yielded no results as none of the figures of his young life was around anymore. His friends and elders were either dead or had moved away, abandoning their life in this suburban village.

Alas, after going from door to door within a radius of three houses deep, inviting only ridicule, curious stares and at best no results from his questions, Aldan returns to his old home to rest from his fruitless inquiries, having acquired nothing but frustration. Without a more straightforward source of information he decided upon searching his old home for any clues to where his wife and unseen child had gone.

The letters he had accumulated over the years from his limited contact with his wife and child provided nothing- only meagre information on how they got through their days, how she never remarried, how they were close to poverty time and again, how she became pregnant on that one night of grave mistake he decided to return home to her twelve years ago when times had gotten difficult in the academy, and how his daughter was born half an albino, with red eyes but just enough pigment in the skin to prevent cancer from the sun. His only picture of her was twelve years outdated, depicting her and his baby girl. They lend no secrets to him.

"Michael, search the kitchen, I shall start with the main chamber." Pointing his apprentice absently the kitchen, Aldan started opening drawers, looking under tables while his apprentice skitters off to help him with the other room. The living room had numerous furniture so it was filled with hope to the Grandmaster.

After searching through half the room there was still nothing to be had, and the old man's patience was beginning to run short as his most desired was again so close and yet so far. Still, he kept to his gentle ways, as anything, even trash, found in his home of old was a relic to his eyes, a relic that would connect him to his family. It was only at the very last counter that he found a few objects that could benefit him in his quest. There was a family photo in the last drawer of the last counter, its frame splintered and glass smashed- it was a picture of his wife with his daughter who had grown up to about ten. The dates at the corner of the photo confirmed it. By then, she was in her forties, and his near-albino daughter, a shapely young girl with red eyes and flowing white hair. She was apparently following in his footsteps and tradition as she was posing with a long sword in her hands.

Underneath the picture, which he kept for his own under his cloak, was an old phone book, the prize of his search. Opening its mouth, he found numbers that could be used to phone his in-laws, who may know more than his 'new neighbours'.

It was then that a delayed thought entered his mind- considering the looks between his opponent in the battle of the nearby alleyway and his unmet daughter, he was shocked at the similarity- the white hair, the red eyes, the pale skin. Few individuals had Albinism and even fewer would know how to handle a pair of far eastern swords so well. Moreover, the age of the girl he fought earlier was about twelve, and the Grandmaster's daughter was born twelve years ago. The Demoness was his daughter!

The force of his conclusion was quite shocking, for it would have meant that he had already met his daughter, just not in the fashion that he desired. Feeling a sudden lethargy in his legs from his epiphany, he sat himself down on a ruined couch, his mind stuck on the image of the Demoness, or his daughter. He was in emotional disarray, and his heart was split into two camps. He was appalled that his daughter had become a murderer at such a shockingly young age, yet at the same time he could feel pride at how she had handled her twin blades and even defeated him in a sense, no matter how dishonourable a tactic she used.

Now that he had, in a sense, found his young daughter, he was left with a missing wife, and the phonebook he found was a key to solving this. Standing up briskly with an energized sense of purpose, he called, "Michael! It's time we go!" His apprentice, heeding his call, came walking out of the kitchen with something in his hand that looks like a piece of paper.

"Sir, I found this." Michael said as he handed over the piece of paper to his master. It was completely a shade of pale yellow, that is, until Aldan turned it over. It was an old photograph of the Grandmaster with his wife. They were both young then, full of life and hope- now, he was despairing over the state of his family, how his wife was then missing and how his daughter had turned to a life of crime and sin. He was full of pain and frustration, something only his life in the world of swordsmanship had been able to anesthetize until now.

"I thank you, but I have found much that may lead me to my wife, hurry!" Flapping his cloak as he turned to run out, the Grandmaster took his leave with his apprentice following- His wife may well be a phone call away.

**Meanwhile...**

I've had my suspicions all along, if you think I'm that sort of good-hearts but naive kind of superhero. Up until before Marcus was gunned down, I had kind of suspected Mindy Macready of being the Demoness, considering that she was probably the only young girl with skills that would make even Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris back away. Sure, there were some characteristics of Demoness that may not quite match, but tell me, where else would you find a gun-toting, knives-wielding, foul-mouthed little girl who revel in killing thugs?

I was an idiot that I suspected my God-sister of turning to the dark side of the force, and I'm glad I was an idiot this time around. I was glad that she was there in that ward crying rather than on another rooftop having a fight to the death with me, because if it was Mortal Kombat between us, I'd be the one eating the fatality for sure.

After paying Sergeant Marcus a visit, I accompanied Mindy on her way back home. I was in a taxi with her, on her way back to the suburbs. I felt uneasy being with her at this stage, as if the tension inside her was infectious- though at least she was more passive than when she was in a bullying mood. After her crying episode at the ward, she was still pale and downcast. Ever since leaving the hospital, she hadn't made a single noise, or cuss about something that pisses her off, which was quite unusual for a girl like her.

"Mindy..." I whispered to her, trying to be as respectful to her losses as much as possible, for both my sake and her mental well-being. Putting a hand on her shoulder for comfort, I tried calming her down as she was still distressed from the looks of it- she was just out of tears to weep out's the way I see it, "Mindy, he'll be fine..." Still, she was as silent and motionless as rock.

"Mindy, we need to come up with a plan to stop her before she hurts anyone else..." I said carefully without revealing any details to the driver. I've come quite a long way since my humble and shamelessly naive beginnings. I was trying to distract her from Marcus and well, it was our job as the defenders of our society anyway, "Mindy..?" I squeezed her shoulder gently, but she shrugged it off and knocked it away violently.

"Fuck you! Don't you think I'm thinking!" The ten-year-old screamed at me- it shocked me a little, how she made the transition from soft, vulnerable girl to Hit-Girl again, but I was glad. You know what they say, a little anger's good for a heroine, better than despair as long as it doesn't break any of my bones. The Terminator would agree with me if no one else would.

"Alright, alright! I'm just trying to help..." I was in verbal retreat before there was another period of silence. Thankfully we reached home before there was another unnerving fifteen minutes of it. Mindy got out of the taxi almost before it stopped completely, furious, and stomped to her door steps before she could hear the taxi driver mutter 'crazy kid' at her under his breath. I followed behind her after paying the taxi fare, doing my best to avoid the 'lousy elder brother' look the same driver was giving me.

"I'm thinking we should go to the library and go on patrol more often at night..." I tried to be the decision maker, but all I knew were second grade amateur rubbish. Despite having dropped out of practice for six months, I doubted then that she had forgotten everything she had learnt for half her decade-long life- she certainly hadn't forgotten her real dad and the trail of pain following his death, so...

"Oh, and what will that do? Fuck, I got it all planned out." Mindy said vaguely as she opened the door to her home. It was then that I remembered- I had given the old dude who calls himself Grandmaster Aldan ways of contacting me- through my e-mail, Facebook and Friendster accounts, though sometimes I worry from the looks of things that he may not know what they were.

"If we're lucky the Grandmaster'd help us." If we are very lucky, I was thinking. Mindy froze at the base of the staircase as she heard the name of New York city's newest addition to her pool of superheroes, as though she recognised the sword-wielding professor-like fellow.

"Grand... Master?" She repeated Aldan's title. From what I could tell by looking at her back, she seemed deep in thought, as though there was a Godzilla versus King Kong struggle going on in her head, "Grand... Master..."

"Oh, you've probably never seen him before, I've never heard of him until-" Before I could end the struggle in Mindy's head, she was able to do it herself. Good old Mindy was always independent.

"Saw him on the net yesterday night." She said abruptly, at this point I was like 'what the fuck', considering the way she was acting- she had never been so slow in remembering stuff before, not to mention the way she stood stock-still. After that, she began rubbing her temple, and she seem faint, "God-damn headache..."

But then again, I was guessing it was just her grief getting to her, "Anyway, after hearing about Demoness, I made plans against her, you know, just to screw around and have fun..." Like a mad scientist eager to show off his newest Frankenstein 2000 to the world, Mindy darted upstairs and I followed her, as always, unable to keep up. By the time I had reached the door to her pink-and-yellow shaded room, she was unpacking something from her luggage. Peering over her rounded shoulder as I came in, I noticed what appears to be a large folded map.

"I thought you were on vacation? With your friend's family?" I had to ask, as there was some suspicion going on inside of me, telling me that some weird shit was going down, except that there probably wasn't any- maybe it was just my care for Mindy. Needless to say, she was a bad God-sister.

"Cut the crap, I did it in my free time!" She was screaming again, banging her fist against the floor. I had clearly invaded her ego, or something else. I was never really a people person. Her anger was raging again- probably something to hide the girl side of her. On second thought, I wasn't thinking, which was why I decided to hang back, and let the heat simmer off a bit.

The whole morning was spent on discussing our plan to weed out the Demoness tonight. On the map were areas where Hit-Girl thinks she might reside in- and there were so many circles and crosses, and I knew then that it was going to be a long night, and our operation might stretch till morning even with an extra pair of hands.

"How do you know she'd be in one of those places?" I asked her after our early lunch, which consisted of hand-made sandwiches and hot chocolate. By then, Mindy was calmer, but then again, she was still the same irritable girl.

"My sources, deal with it." Was all she gave me before we dived back into preparing for our search in the night. I spent the entire afternoon and evening becoming Mindy's assistant in her warm-up training. At the very least, between her profanity-laden orders and high-pitched grunts, I was uplifted by her superhero display of powers. It reminded me of the old days, of when we first met amongst drug-peddling gangsters, and how we conspired against our first supervillain. It was like a warm pat on the back Mindy-style, when I was knocked back against the wall after sustaining one of her flying kicks through a thick pillow which I improvised as a training aid.

I could only imagine what I would have to go through to defeat Demoness in an epic battle of wits, strength and every other aspect discussable in an RPG or D&D game, but all I ever needed to know was that we would run her down eventually, what with the three of us in the loop.


	13. Chapter 13: Life and Death

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 13: Life and Death**

The day had not been an easy one, not so much the difficulty in retrieving his wife, but especially the difficulty in seeing his wife. It was not what he had expected, after all, being a champion of the blade and in spirit, he was all but positive that things would always turn out alright for him- God had promised him, promised him that there would be happiness, but with the turnout of events, a tiny voice inside of him was starting to whisper into his right ear that it was just his delusion.

There was nothing left for him in his city but his daughter- the only silver lining remaining in the sky, perhaps a rather dull one. She may be alive, but the spirit he had hoped she possessed was all but gone with reality sinking in. With some probing, he was able to gather what he would rather have not known, but would need to should he ever want to see her again. Nevaeh Bonitus was the Demoness, and as this pure incarnation of evil she had murdered people by the dozens, mostly of criminal backgrounds but also many who had no quarrel with the law. Her arsenal includes her swords, some kind of fan, knives both held and thrown, pistols, sub-machineguns, and an assortment of grenades, even unconventional implements like metal fangs and steel toes- A living encyclopaedia of mankind's violent history.

As much as he would not want to remember the day, his memory was much too honed to slurp up the bliss of ignorance, but with this memory comes a realisation of his new goal, which was very unfortunately not to go after his wife no longer, but to somehow reunite with his daughter...

**Earlier...**

Finding and using a payphone remained an easy affair for the Grandmaster- it was one of the few features of his beloved city that remained archaic, and familiar. With minimal help from his street-wise apprentice, Michael, he was able to contact a brother-in-law regarding the whereabouts of his wife. Grabbing the phone, excited as he was, he slipped in a dime into the coin slot of the machine and dialled one of the numbers the book had given him.

"..." The phone whined at first, testing Aldan Bonitus' patience as he perceived himself to be closer to his family than never before, but soon enough, it started dialling the numbers in punched in. Mechanically, it moved on to cry out to his brother-in-law's own phone.

"Hello?" A generally unimpressive voice that came from the other end of the line spoke, "Who is this?"

"Is this Mark Benson? I am Aldan, husband to your sister." The Grandmaster introduced himself, and he could sense some alarm from the other side.

"You! Still got the cheek to show up, have you!" Mark scolded Aldan with an English accent- Aldan's wife was of English-American descent. Even Michael, who was facing the other way, viewing the landscape unavailable to him up in rural Ontario, could hear the shouts issuing from the payphone, and he turned his head to perceive more but quickly reversed his motion, knowing full well that his teacher needs his privacy.

"Mark, you have my most sincerest apologies for the failure of your sister's marriage but-" The Grandmaster raced through his words, but he was seconds too slow from ever completing it, and leagues away from ever swaying his former brother-in-law to his side. They were never in good terms ever since Aldan had left to teach in his northbound academy, and had only spoken briefly each time they met before his divorce, whenever both sides of the family decided to gather in a reunion.

"Oh spare me, you selfish bastard!" Mark continued his ruthless abuse of his hated sister's husband- being close to his family, it was sacrilege to him when she was divorced as it devastated her.

"Look, there was no way our relationship could have continued, if you could've just stepped in my boots for a moment..." Aldan defended himself, forgetting briefly his reason for calling as he was wading through the memories of his youth again, fighting to come to terms with his demon of the past, which seems to just reside on the other end of the phone right by him.

"Yeah, that's what they all say!" The Englishman's words were piercing for Aldan was hit in his most vulnerable spot.

"It was a choice of evils, Mark! My occupation in the swordsman's arts was my only source of livelihood, and one slip in my career could have me thrown out! I paid little attention to Margaret because it was the utmost I could do!" Aldan let slipped his early life in a nutshell, in a frenzy of words fuelled by his grief and anger towards Mark's general insensitivity, "I left her to spare her the suffering of our union."

"Whatever, what in blazes do you want?" Cold and uncaring, Mark was simply avoiding Aldan's explanations simply because he could never find any place inside of him to believe any of his words, being grounded to his own belief.

"Where is she?" The emotional pangs within him was intensifying- he could feel an oscillation of loneliness and need of company within him on one end, and a sudden, unexplained homesickness on the other.

"Oh, missing her already?" First, verbal abuse in the form of insensitive comments and now sarcasm- despite being the one at fault, the Swordsman could not help but to feel anger seething inside beneath his thick layer of leather, steel, cloth, skin and muscle, "Why would you bother all of a sudden, it's not as if you give a shat."

"I dreamt of her every night, and thought of her every day, yet I dare not return for years because I would only douse her in the same pain as before..." Aldan's words were permeated with conspicuous honesty and a true expression of his innermost depression, it was a statement that could move hundreds should it be captured on film, so it had certainly moved Mark by a slight measure if not quite a bit.

"Go on then, go see her, take down this address, and you'll know what you've done to her..." Mark said, giving in, though it was quite apparent that he was still standing his ground and compromising for his own end. After that, he recited the address of what appears to be his wife's new home or something else, Aldan could not tell. All he could tell from Mark's tone of voice that he may not like what he sees should he set foot in the address he was given, however, he had no choice but to venture forth.

It was a few hour's drive away even with a cabby's help by Michael's suggestion. The journey took them out to the outer fringes of the city where there was much less development in the way of urbanisation. It also took them beyond their lunch into the afternoon, but hungry as they were, the Grandmaster refused to stop by a diner while his apprentice, recognising the importance of the journey, stood by his decision faithfully.

It seemed endless however, the road, as Aldan was already stripped of his patience a long time ago, but as all snakes have a head and every adventure must end with either death or victory, the taxi finally stopped right beside an old mansion of stone decorated with steel, wood and marble. It was an entirely unlikely place to find Margaret but there was other alternative but to move forward.

After paying the road ranger his respect and bills, the two quaint travellers entered the grounds of the mansion, beyond its opened gate and gargoyles and up to the marbled porch of the luxury estate. 'Has Margaret finally remarried?' The Grandmaster thought hopefully, but there was fear that it could be something else, for an old mansion may not always associate with wealth and influence.

"A stench of death or madness..." Aldan whispered softly to himself, for there was no other way to express his fears of which domain his wife may reside in.

"I'm sure everything should be alright, sir." Aldan's apprentice tried to reassure him as he was pressing the doorbell.

"Fine words, but words spoken only in the most desperate of situations..." The Grandmaster despaired just before the grand doors into the main hall of the mansion opened- something does not seem right about the place, should it remain with the impression that it was a place of residence.

Expecting a stereotypical British old butler type of person to greet him on the porch, the Grandmaster was pleasantly surprised when a boy teenager who had freshly entered into the realm of young adulthood poked his head out to see them through the gap he had made after opening the large wooden doors.

"Hi, are you here to see my dad or what?" The young man greeted the two travellers in the most casual fashion yet, a trend that had taken hold of most of the world except Aldan's own. After delivering his line, he looked up and down at Aldan and Michael- like everyone else, he was, of course, finding their attire strange, "He's a busy guy, you know."

"Is your father by any chance married to Margaret Benson?" It was a question that Aldan hoped would be answered affirmatively, for otherwise it would mean his wife was here for a graver reason.

"Er, no? My mom's name isn't Margaret. What's this about?" The boy, oblivious to the Grandmaster's intentions, had given him the truth too forcefully, something that the old man could hardly swallow, "Why so shocked?"

"Wh-what establishment is this?" Aldan stammered as his mind was racing through the possibilities, none of which allows his wife to be totally intact but either half-dead or entirely dead.

"This is my dad's funeral home and cemetery. Have you been living under a rock? Dad's one of the most successful undertaker in New York." It was a blow even Aldan cannot take, an attack beyond what even the most skilful opponent could ever deliver upon him. Before he could fall on his knees as he could not handle the shock, his apprentice held him up. The funeral director's boy however, was still oblivious of the situation, for anyone seeking to visit the cemetery would not ask for the undertaker's wife's name first.

Eventually, the Grandmaster was lead to the cemetery where his wife was buried under- it lay behind the mansion. It was a private cemetery full of rich monuments, something that a family such as the Bensons could easily afford, being a family of wealthy businesspersons, celebrities, musicians and any other high-earning positions imaginable. There, for the first time in decades, Aldan cried for hours before the bust of his wife, in the company of his dearly missed and unfortunately dearly departed Margaret.

After he had calmed down for a bit, the funeral director, being a man who was passionate about his work that was to send people off to the afterlife, told him the reason for her death- he remembers every of his 'clients', "Margaret Benson, 1961 to 2010. Lived to 49. She was killed in the crossfire of a drive-by shooting. She chose on her will, 'Darkness fill my soul, but life and light be with you and my dear daughter' to be her last words." Aldan knew that it was meant for him and Nevaeh, and he knew what it meant.

**Present...**

By the time he returned to the city, it was nearing nightfall. The Grandmaster was in a place where few of his age and seriousness would enter, a cybercafé. He was entirely out of place there, with his apprentice guiding him in the use of the computer, a wondrous tool to his eyes which had come a very long way since he last saw it. Amidst the screaming gamers and drifting internet surfers alike, he sent a message to Kick-Ass via his facebook, "I need to speak to you."


	14. Chapter 14: Broken

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 14: Broken**

There were six locations to check out, and they were divided between the three of us- Me, Hit-Girl and Grandmaster. They were all over the place, such as in the city, in some impoverished neighbourhoods and some close to the locales where my first series of action started. All of them looked suspicious, at least after what Mindy told me.

Due to the scale of the operation, we could only start early at ten under the moon. Aldan messaged me an hour before- a little late, but at least it still meant we won't have to work till morning and I won't have to cook up some story to satisfy Dad's suspicions.

"He's late." Hit-Girl hissed as she was playing with her butterfly knife- she was rusty at first, but she was getting the hang of it again- reminding me of the time I first met her. Either way, there's still a deadly catch to it. The prodigious girl wasn't just flipping it around; she was twirling it around her hand, checking its balance and her familiarity.

"He'll be here." Though to tell you the truth I was a little agitated- this is what happens when you cross an over-active mind with thirty minutes of boredom without comic books or movies. I was a little disappointed, considering how cool Grandmaster was and the way he handled his giant two-handed sword like Aragorn.

The meeting place was in an old, at one of the dead ends. It was thankfully not a rubbish dump, at least an unusually clean one. There were still rats about, and the stench need some getting used to, other than that, it was fine. The important thing was, no one else would take up the spot as we had already intimidated a gang of weed sniffers away.

"I am here." A voice boomed as a large shadow approached us. Mindy and I looked up- it was him, I could recognise the physique and the clothing but as he got closer and under a lamp, he was even grander than at first glance, along the lines of King Théoden. He was dressed like a crusader, breastplate, helmet and all, with his visor raised. A chest cloth that flows down below his torso with a black cross against a white background adorned his armour. He still had his cloak on. Behind him, unseen at first, was a younger swordsman in less spectacular dressing, having only a breastplate with leather on his limbs and a smaller, less imposing, cloak.

"Grandmaster! I can see what held you up." I said, impressed with the swordsman's turnout. He was sporting a buckle and long sword this time though, which was perhaps the only part of his new look that disappointed. The long sword was like a downgrade of his claymore.

Perhaps noticing the look on my face, or at least the parts that were exposed, the Grandmaster explained, "Too slow and bulky was my great claymore, no matter how powerful it was. My sword and buckler could match up better to Demoness' far eastern swords."

"You sure you know who you're fucking with, old man?" Seeing that Hit-Girl had never had much talk-time with Aldan, I just let her continue with her question. I could easily tell however, that the wise old man was not very impressed with her flowery vocabulary, the way the Green Lantern would never really approve of Flash's playful, light-hearted take on crime fighting. The two, I could tell then, anyone would, won't work well together. Thankfully, they won't have to this time.

"She prowls the night as spectres do. She blends into the shadow to hunt prey by the dozens. She fights in the nature of a snake, with the skill of a Grandmistress. Her diversions consist of blood and inhumane intrigues. Had the media not named her Demoness, I would have called her a nighthaunt, a vampire; darkness itself-" The Grandmaster reminiscent on his impression of the near-albino, which I could tell, was somehow painful from the look of his face. Was that the sting of defeat I'm looking at? Or something else? I was confused.

"I just call her a bitch." Hit-Girl interrupted, much to the irritation of himself and his friend, who hasn't talked much in his debut entrance. I could tell from the emphasis on 'bitch', that Hit-Girl's hatred for Demoness was quite intense. Frank killed her real father. Demoness had put her second one, who was just as dear to her as Big Daddy was, justifiable by how he had taken care of her for the first five years of her life. Our new nemesis had put all that in the ICU and next to death. It was a miracle he was transferred to a normal ward mere hours after biting the bullet(s).

"She is also my... Daughter." And the moment he mentioned the D word, my heart was in my mouth even before I knew it. Demoness does not exactly look like Aldan- the plot twist of the century.

"Wait, what?" Rhetorically, I asked, with Hit-Girl reverberating with a straight, "the fuck?" It was totally unexpected- had to be the joke of the century. What were the chances of this happening? An epic relationship between the main antagonist and a supporting hero. It was the stuff of legends, of what comic books are made of.

"It is a long tale, but I must simply say that she is broken. The world has been unkind to her." The Grandmaster tried to defend his daughter- something I couldn't believe my ear was hearing.

"The world was unkind to me." Hit-Girl cut in again, completely and fanatically against her evil counterpart. I had to agree with her, as I had seen her do too much damage, "And I'm not a God-damn cop-killer." I had never felt this much electricity between two persons before- and this time the two dynamic power buddies were definitely electrifying alley. Had Aldan been any less cool-headed, the next issue of Kick-Ass would have been 'Hit-Girl VS Grandmaster (and his sidekick)'.

"Don't you use that tone on me, young lady!" Aldan snapped, jabbing his sword-arm index finger at the little fighter- I could almost literally hear the kettle boiling. I could be wrong about him being cool headed, seeing that I was wrong 95% of the time.

"Or what, you'll kick my ass?" Hit-Girl snorted with half her tone taunting, totally enthralled with going against Aldan, who was simply being a good father, at least in my honest and inexperienced opinion. It was at this time that I knew I had to step in. She was becoming a little aggressive with provoking the Grandmaster. Moreover, I was simply disgusted by how she was playing with my alter-ego's name again. It was a repeat of what happened last Friday at school, and I could remember what happened quite clearly, partly because of that sharp kick in the balls.

"Stop it, Hit-Girl! You're acting just like her!" I need not mention the name and I shouted with my hands clenched into two large, blue stressballs- I wasn't really thinking, though as an afterthought, she really was acting like that blasted little rascal. Her taunt was what marked the sweet spot that shouldn't exist between the two girls. Thankfully, it was just a spot as whichever the case, it shut Mindy up for good.

"Look, child-" As Aldan was about to start on a calmer note again, Mindy gasped at the word 'child' he used. This I understand, as, from what I know after spending a brief time in captivity with Big Daddy, it was something associated with him- the way he talks, most likely to his vigilante daughter. I could see shivers from her, and her breathing wasn't right. I even noticed her pupil dilating, a superpower I never thought I had- the gasp was okay, but she was overreacting quite a bit.

"Don't call me that again." Mindy warned the elderly man, her voice constricting into a whisper by the end of her threat, and wavering as she was warning him. Being a social idiot, even I could understand that, at the memory of her beloved biological father, she would feel down, yes, even the tough-as-nails Hit-Girl. The tears were there, her voice was definitely giving her away.

"Mi- *pause* Hit-Girl..." Like a mother trying her best to comfort her wayward daughter while at the same time teach her some manners, I nearly gave slip her name as I was too busy with her to think of anything else. I would prefer the night to be spent on accomplishing something else rather than infighting.

"Hit-Girl, so you do understand loss?" Like a father to his child, this knight in literally shining armour knelt down before Mindy, bringing his eye level to her's. They locked eyes, but Hit-Girl could not stand it for long and looked away. Hell, no one could stand that kind of intensity in his eyes.

"I discovered my wife to be... Dead... This afternoon. Do you know how it feels like?" The Grandmaster continued as Hit-Girl remained surprisingly silent and retreated into herself- it was so unlike her, it was as if she had changed to become an ordinary little girl. Aldan must have stole Dumbledore's magic to tame Mindy this way.

"More than you know." Mindy managed to say as she was like choking on her own sorrow. She was fighting desperately not to cry, I can tell- Wow, Aldan was proof that God existed.

"No... I knew, child." It was my turn to gasp at the elder's use of the 'C' word- I expected Hit-Girl to punch him across the face, but it broke her resistance somewhat. The wells of tears had become quiet waterfalls, "Your father died, and his successor warded." Shit- that was beyond cool, how did he know Marcus was her guardian? It was then that I understood, he must have probably picked it up somewhere, in the NYPD station where he was brought in for questioning. This begs the question- what more does he know? Talk about Professor X.

"I had all but lost my wife; I implore you, help me save my daughter." He went on, both his leather-bound hands on Hit-Girl's shoulders, emphasizing pretty much everything he tried to put across. If it was me, I wouldn't even dare to touch my God-sister while she was in this state. It would be just like trying to reason with the Hulk, except... Aldan managed it.

Hit-Girl was still all quiet, speechless as though this is some scene from a good drama. I had to step in to get things going. What are brothers for? "So what's this got to do with us? We can't give this up just because she's your daughter!" And I was also being a fucked-up idiot- Aldan would not never give the night's mission up especially because Demoness was her daughter.

"No, we search for her all the same, just... Don't kill her." Grandmaster said after standing up, leaving the weeping Hit-Girl standing by herself, spending all her energy trying not to cry, and failing. It was funny to see her this way in full uniform, her eyes closed in a futile attempt to stop her tears from flowing out, her hands limp by her side.

"Okay, sounds fair." Like the dork I am, I agreed in the most awkward way possible, then, turning to the rather distracted Hit-Girl, "So what do we do now?"

It took Hit-Girl a while to control herself. After keeping her mood in check, she took out her cellphone and showed the rest of us a digitised version of her plan on a GPS map and divided the places where Demoness could be hiding in between the four of us. I still had 2 locales to search and so did Hit-Girl- she simply doesn't trust the two Swordsmen enough.


	15. Chapter 15: Dead End

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 15: Dead End**

Hit-Girl was riding a purple motorbike towards her second destination, determined to avenge her stepfather. Images were flashing in her head, pictures of her real father and herself training together, pictures of Damon shooting her in the Kevlar-protected chest to get her ready for a real gunplay. There were memories of their first few missions together, how his father as Big Daddy had protected her whenever they were in trouble, until one day, she was able to stand on her own as a one-girl army. A smile rose on her lips as she was nearing her destination.

Then there were the later times, when she met Kick-Ass, whom she regarded as a comrade even before they met, despite her father's disapproval, 'He should call himself Ass-kicked, instead *snicker*'. She had watched on a television wired to her father's concealed camera, how he took down a warehouse full of Frank's men, and she had watched him burn half-way to heaven (she would like to think he went to heaven, not the alternative), had a final talk with him before he completed the journey. Her smile faded as she was nearing her destination.

It was utterly familiar somehow- a blocky apartment building with fences around it. Somehow, she just could not recall what gave her that thought. Pausing for a moment in contemplation, she decided to ignore her feelings and went ahead with her operations. Drawing her pair of twin pistols, she took cover by the entrance in the fencing, her every senses stretched beyond normal limits to detect anyone on the other side. There was nothing. Moving on swiftly but silently, her guns ahead of her, she reached the main door of the apartment.

Like a cat, she paused for a second and listened. Silence. Slowly, she twisted the door knob and created a small gap to listen better through. Still silence. Careful not to cause any creaking or banging, she opened wide the door and, cautiously, made her way slowly along the corridor- it was dark, and bare. It was ideal for Hit-Girl to conceal herself.

Kick-Ass, or Dave Lizewski was a brother-in-arms to her. When he had allowed himself to be tricked like a naive, unknowing boy, Hit-Girl felt betrayed, disappointed, the first time she had felt these two emotions so strongly. She had wanted to slit his throat where he sat, miserably beaten three quarters to pulp, and end his suffering on the spot. She had wanted to crash the Mist Mobile straight into the solid wall of a building to kill them both outright, to end both their suffering. She had wanted to put a bullet through his head after she had brought him to her home.

"You hate him, yes?" A voice as young and feminine as Hit-Girl's said. It was right behind the 10-year-old vigilante. Spinning around blindingly fast, she unleashed a volley of well-placed shots, but in the gun-blaze she couldn't see who the voice belonged to. Then there it was again- this time a sickening, playful giggle.

"No..." Against all that her training had taught her, Hit-Girl whispered to herself. Despite Dave's hand in her father's death, it was purely unintentional- the true, guilty culprits had been the D'Amico. Besides, the senior grader helped her after that, made defeating Frank and avenging his true father a reality. Yet, had there been a choice between the two ways her life could turn out... Had Dave been a little smarter to make that choice for her like a true elder person would...

"Yes, you do." The voice said again, playful as it was. It came from the front. Hit-Girl, reversing what she did earlier to face her front again, fired at where Demoness was supposed to be, but again, there was no dead body when there should be. A door opened and slammed shut as she was unloading her magazine at the wall ahead of her. Whatever she was up against, it was either she had regressed too far in her abilities, or the Demoness was too much of a match for her.

As she made her way towards the door that seemed to have moved on its own, there were voices coming from the room behind the door. There was some light issuing from the gap underneath. Hit-Girl knew what to do, her years of training had not been lost after the months of trying to be normal- There was only one entrance, one exit. The room was just begging to be raided.

The door was too heavy, and she was just too young, short and light, so it was a little different for her. Pressing the muzzle of her left pistol to the door knob, Hit-Girl disabled it with a single shot, and she proceeded to kick open the door. It flew open obediently, but nothing was behind it with the exception of a table, chair and window. The small apartment room was not brightly lit, but lit well enough. The walls were laced with all manner of firearms from small, girlish pistols to a bazooka. Something about it seemed very, very familiar. Leaning against a wall that blocked her from the rest of the room, she took a deep breath, and made a rush for it- there was again, nothing but walls and guns, featureless furniture, "What the fuck?"

"Dave's no different from the bad guys..." Demoness said- from where she heard it from, she was no more than ten feet away from her. 'How did she get behind me?' Was occupying Hit-Girl's brain as she turned around for the third time again to fire on her sworn enemy, but again, there were no results.

"Where are you!" Mindy shrieked in a mix of anger and frustration, before going into a mad frenzy trying to find where her new nemesis might be. She poked her head out the window only to find dirt and grass and she spent all her bullets on the entrance door only to hear the wood cry and not Demoness.

"Here." Demoness replied- she was somehow seated behind the table as Mindy was shooting at the door. The girl in purple could barely turn around to face her enemy when she was shot in the chest. Shocked, she stumbled backwards and fell against the very door she was taking her anger out on. As a fighter, Hit-Girl was trained to avoid getting shot or hit in the face, what with a 100% chance that she would always be the youngest and weakest in a fight. A few kicks and punches from Frank was enough to incapacitate her. A clear shot was easily far more than what the pre-pubescent girl could bear. The Demoness giggled again, in her usual sweet-yet-disturbing fashion.

"Didn't expect me there, didn't you?" The near-albino taunted mischievously as she approached the severely wounded Hit-Girl, who was slumped in a corner, cursing and moaning and covering the gaping hole in her left shoulder that was pouring blood out by the cupfuls with her gloved hand. Mindy's vest did not protect her this time- the bullet had punched right through the material and trauma plate. Thankfully, it missed her lungs and heart, though she suspected that it was intentional.

Hit-Girl was never one of those who would give up. As impossible to win as it is, with a violently trembling hand she reached for one of her dropped pistols. 'If I could reload it...' She thought faintly, the hope of prevailing not extinguished in her, until the now clearly visible Demoness put a metal-bound foot on her gun and slid it away. She could hear a crack- one of her fingers might be broken from where her nemesis had stepped on, but the pain was nothing but an itch compared to the throbbing nightmare in her chest and spreading everywhere else, "Not so fast, Hit-Girl..."

"Looks like it's my turn again..." Demoness said after crouching down to bring her eyes closer to her counterpart's. It was then that it was all clear to Hit-Girl- what has been going on all this while, and it wasn't pretty. She knew the reason why the apartment had been so familiar. Her eyes wide with terror, she tried to back away from the living nightmare, only there was no more space left behind her to compress herself into.

"No... Please..." It was the first time Mindy begged anyone, not counting the previous times, "No..." Before anything else happened, she passed out, and the world became dark to her again, a cage.

**Meanwhile...**

"Is she late?" Michael asked me as everyone was just idling around waiting in the same alleyway dead end that we congregated in earlier. Everyone had returned, including Aldan, his sidekick and me, except for our star attraction, Hit-Girl. It has been 30 minutes since I came back empty-handed from ringing every single doorbell in a 3-level apartment and exploring an abandoned one, "She could be in trouble..."

"No way, she's one real bad ass, she'd have contacted me if she needs help." I mumbled as I was practicing with my utility pouches- testing myself to see how fast I could draw my equipment, I looked like a moron while I was aggressively pillaging my own pockets for items, "Not that she needs help."

"She is but a young lady, Kick-Ass." The Grandmaster said in response to his sidekick's views. To tell you the truth, I kind of agreed with Yoda here, that even Mindy could still get into things beyond what she could really handle- if you've seen what I've seen during our little show at Rasul's (had it not been for Big Daddy, she would've been dead) and the D'Amico Skyscraper where she was almost blasted to bits by one of Frank's men had it not been my intervention.

"Dude, I've learnt to stop looking at age ever since Hit-Girl came along and now with Demoness..." I went on as politely as I could. Good guys can't be good guys for long if you get on the wrong side with them. Look at where all the comic-book villains end up when they decided at the beginning of their story to rule the world.

"Looking for me?" Hit-Girl said as she was walking down the alleyway towards our end- I was relieved I was right, it would mean I was less of a loser, less of a jerk, but then again, it didn't last long, it never did. When Mindy stepped into the light, I was unpleasantly surprised- it wasn't her. As of now, I was still surprised how similar their voice sounded like- I guess we all sounded the same as children. The same thought must have crossed all our minds when Demoness decided to pay us a visit.

"Where's Hit Girl?" I demanded from our greatest adversary as she approached us closer and closer. I had to admit, I was intimidated. Had it not been for Grandmaster and his sidekick I would have fled. Together, we formed a line against her, the way superheroes would at the back of my brain, or at least the part of it that takes care of fantasies, "Where is she?"

"Oh, she's safe." Demoness said with a grin on her face, that sickening grin that shouldn't even be on a child's face, the kind of grin that carries the entire weight of the world's vices on its lips, "If you want her back, I'd keep it simple: Don't fuck with me." At the corner of my eyes, I saw Grandmaster and his apprentice, Michael, nodding to each other, as if they were telepathic- I could see professor X in the old man. Had it not been for my maturity I would've believed Aldan was him except in disguise. Then he nodded to me, and I did the same. I was confused, but I had some idea as to what to do. The range was close enough, or rather, at least I thought so back then.

I quick-drew my tasers and fired them, but I was simply too slow- all my target had to do was cart-wheel to my left way out of my aim. Michael unsheathed his long sword and rushed forward in a corner, flanking Demoness to my right. I knew what the agenda was- to capture our dear girl here, and it would all end there and then, except, it was a little harder than it sounds, especially when I heard the 'shink' from Demoness drawing her twin Katanas out.

"Let's dance!" The girl in black and silver exclaimed as she lowered her stance into a high crouch, her swords outstretched. She was like a dangerous flower of doom, a hungry Venus Flytrap ready to swallow its next prey, and we're it. I'll admit, leave me alone, and I won't ever come anywhere close to her, but with my justice friends around, that's another story- the sheer terror I felt in my first encounter with her was reduced to slight sheer terror.

"Nevaeh, wait, let us talk." The Grandmaster tried relating to his daughter- diplomacy was a good idea, it was a wonder why I never thought about that. My guess was ever since failing to move with my words for like ever, I threw diplomacy out a long time ago when it comes to crooks.

"What did you call me?" The Demoness replied.

"Nevaeh Bonitus, I am your father, Aldan Bonitus." Aldan proclaimed his relationship with the Demoness. There was silence after that- the white-haired girl did not so much as express anything at first, but there was soon a short burst of laughter from her.

"You're not my father, fuck-face." With that, she retreated backwards and Aldan wore a shocked expression on his face- He certainly did not expect that sort of a reaction from his own daughter.

"Michael, look out!" I shouted after realising which direction Demoness was heading- his. Being a sidekick, I had doubts about his ability. Being sort of one myself, I knew it meant being the less capable, one who played only a supporting role, and it doesn't just happen in comic books. The youthful swordsman pointed his sword forward and got into a ready stance, refusing to budge. Aldan and I knew that it was a bad mistake, and we made a rush towards him, only, we were just too far away.

Their swords clashed. The 12-year-old was delivering blow after blow non-stop, and Michael was making full use of his buckler and his long sword to block. We weren't able to make it half way to him before his right leg was severed and the Demoness planted her sword into his back where he fell. We couldn't even catch up with him when she removed her Katana forcefully and ran off.

"Michael!" The Grandmaster screamed as he approached him and knelt down quickly. I could only watch as he frantically check to see if his sidekick was alive- but there was no chance of it. The biggest difference between real-life and the media was the way death was handled. In movies, or books, characters would always die either in the most dramatic, heroic fashion or an absolutely worst way. In real-life, we just cease to exist. In the media, people return from the dead and in real-life, we simply don't.

I could only watch as Grandmaster paid his final respects to his apprentice, closing his eyes when he remained open and positioning the corpse properly- with the limbs straight and the sword on his chest. I was never meant to be in the world of the insecure, I was never meant to see death beyond my mother at such a tender age- but here I am, and there was nothing I could do, "It's not anybody's fault... He understood how much your daughter meant to you." Was all I could or dare to say- I've had bad experiences with speech.

"I cannot stop. I need to reunite with my daughter, and more will perish in her wake should I fail..." The Grandmaster mumbled to himself sorrowfully as he rose, and left as if there were more weight than his medieval gear on his shoulders- I could feel it, my shoulders were positively loaded with a tonne of my personal kryptonite. With half our initial line-up gone, we stood no chance at all to win the old-fashioned way. What's next? God knows, I was never a planner.


	16. Chapter 16: Groping in the Dark

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 16: Groping in the Dark**

"So... What do we do?" I asked innocently like Robin- I was always a sidekick when it comes to being a superhero. I was simply not the best when it comes to crimefighting. Everyone who came after me had beaten me in my own game. Big Daddy with his SWAT tactics, Hit-Girl and her Jet-Li-kung-fu and Matrix gunplay, and now the Grandmaster with his ye-olde but still effective swordsmanship. Heck, I even had a draw with Red Mist, the coward of cowards, a draw I can never break now thanks to the Demoness.

The only people standing between me and the first place in the hall of shame was that fat man in blue who died by a baseball bat in the face, that Armenian guy with a history of mental health problems and the rest... Those who gave up crimefighting without getting into a close encounter of the Kick-Ass kind.

"I will search high and low. Let the distance be a league or a thousand, I will." The Grandmaster replied plainly- not exactly a plan, but his epic attitude deserves a gold medal. He was a knight brought to the present, quaint but still ass-kicking, frickin' cool. He had never declared himself to be a superhero, and yet he was everything a superhero is- Aldan was way beyond the ideals of every character in all my comic books.

"How are we supposed to do that? What's that phrase again?" I was never a whiner, and neither was I that sort of irritating pessimistic character that every movie seems to keep, but combing an entire city in search of what was most likely the most elusive girl in the big apple? C'mon, it doesn't take Bruce Wayne to see how impossible that was.

"Searching for a needle in a haystack? Agreed but other ideas I have not." It was the Grandmaster's desperate need to reunite with his daughter talking- and it was his anger speaking, but it was an invitation to me. It was like an invitation to join the Justice League of America. It woke me up, reminded me of who I am, what I aspired in the beginning to be. I wanted to be in the pantheon of heroes and remain there. I was Robin- not anymore.

"We could always check out where Hit-Girl went." I was confident his time- I wanted to save my little sister, I wanted to save everyone. I wasn't Kick-Ass anymore, I was Ultimate Kick-Ass, "Er..." Maybe not that ultimate, "Do you still remember where she went?"

"I believe..." Stopping in mid-sentence, the Grandmaster was straining his X-brain like never before. I guess its harder to remember the details of a map than anything else. Hell, I couldn't even remember all of the 50 states and their position on the world map, "Yes, I remember. Let us journey onwards..."

**Meanwhile...**

"You can't win." Hit-Girl groaned as blood was still seeping from her mouth after a round of beatings from Demoness. She was tied tightly to a metal chair with nothing but her singlet and underwear on, at the same place she was caught in. A computer screen was facing her with a window showing the guts of a police station. Her more vicious counterpart was facing her as well, grinning as though she had just have a surprise birthday part, except it was probably one involving blood and pain. Hit-Girl's statement was met with a giggle from the depths of hell.

"Who's the punchbag tied to a chair?" Demoness countered before plunging a switchblade in a blink of an eye into Hit-Girl's forearm, right above the wrists where it hurts the most. A tiny shiv dropped from the girl in purple's right hand- she had been cutting the rope binding her wrists. She gritted her teeth as it penetrated cleaning right through her forearm, up until when the switchblade was removed. If it means proving that she was better, she would not scream, "How's that? Satisfying?"

"Fuck you!" Hit-Girl snapped back, refusing to relent. The ropes binding her was too strong and well tied, yet she kept struggling against them in vain to the point where they were already digging into her exposed wrists, "Coward! God damn Cunt!"

The Demoness reacted by giving Hit-Girl a punch across the cheek using her built-in knuckle duster. She grabbed her hair viciously and pulled her captive's face close to her own, and for a split second the sadistic monster of a child studied Hit-Girl's bloodied face, "I've already won."

**Some time later...**

A little girl who looks not older than 12 enters an NYPD police station, a bustling, busy complex that was a centre of crime prevention. It was like a citywith citizens in blue, and pests in leather, jackets, jeans and handcuffs. The little girl was crying like no tomorrow that she had already attracted the attention of many men-in-blue.

She was a typical city schoolgirl carrying a black Hello Kitty schoolbag and wearing jeans and blouse that covers her entire body, with gloves, scarf, and hat thrown in for comfort and warmth. She was crying her eyes out and wiping her tears away so vigorously that no one could really tell how her face and eyes look like except that her skin was a little pale. The little girl was approaching the reception counter, so the desk sergeant behind the heavy wood leaned forward, ready to receive the unusual visitor.

"I lost my mommy and daddy!" The girl uttered between sobs as she looked up at the officer, whose sideburns were white with age. He was the first to have a clear view of her face- red eyes, button nose, adorable cheeks and lips. Almost as pale as ghost, perhaps from the cold weather outside.

"Hey, it's alright kid, do you have a cellphone?" The officer in his forties tried to help- he was one of the tough nuts, and yet he could not help but to be more amiable and sympathetic towards the young girl.

"No..." The lonesome girl replied, her voice a soft squeak. She returned to wiping her tears away again, hiding her face away.

"Alright, don't cry, here's mine." The officer dug his hands into his side pockets and rummaged them for his handphone, only to find that they weren't there. Patting his other pockets on his jacket, he finally found it on his right breast pocket and took it out, only for it to be rejected as the weeping girl said that she could not remember her parents' phone numbers, "Now, don't cry now. You'll find your parents, I'll help you."

Making a quick roundabout around his desk, the aging policeman extended one of his slightly wrinkled hands out, a gesture of goodwill and help, and the girl took it with a slight hint of reluctance. Taking her hand, the Sergeant led her gently through the hall and corridors of the police station, until he met up with a colleague of his, "Marge! Just when I needed you!"

"Alright Lou, you still owe me that cup of coffee by the way." Marge, a fellow Sergeant of Louis, said as she looked down at the young girl, "Beautiful little angel you got there." At the mention of the compliment, the little smiled slightly, to the silent and mostly hidden joy of the policeman.

"I just need you to take her to the office and find her name on computer and- You know what to do, sorry." Louis began racing through his words but stopped. Bending low to address the little girl, he said in the most approaching, soft manner he knows, "Now, this lady here will take good care of you. Just follow her and you'll be with your mommy and daddy in no time."

Passing the little girl's hand to the other police officer, the aging Sergeant Louis leaves the both of them to return to his post. Marge looks down at the half-albino girl to regard her for a moment before taking action, "C'mon, I'll take you to my office. I'll make you a mug of... Well, whatever you want." Tugging lightly on her arm pretty much the same way Louis did, Marge led her through another corridor.

"Are you a detective?" The cute albino girl asked innocently, her mood no longer as sorrowful, "Like Detective Gigante?"

"No dear, but I will be soon, wish me luck, will you?" Sergeant Marge said without making eye contact in a child-friendly, enthusiastic tone- reality was so much harsher than that, "How did you know Mr. Gigante?"

"He's the family friend." The girl replied. As they continued walking, they were passing by whole squads of law enforcers, and a pair of gender-separated toilets. Her eyes were fixed on the toilets as she was passing them.

"Maybe you'd like to say hi to him later? Now wouldn't that be nice? His office's just next to mine." Marge offered the young lady as they were approaching the offices. They were just another bend and corridor away. After feeling a tug from the lost little girl signifying that she wanted to stop, the policewoman paused for a moment and regarded her again, studying her face for what intentions she may have.

"May I use the restroom first?" The little girl fluttered her eyes innocently as she asked for permission- everything she did was adorable, such that she seemed 8 to 10 years old rather than 11 to 12.

"Sure, dear, take all the time you need." Marge replied, and followed the little girl back to the girl's toilet. As they entered the restroom, the little girl realised that it was empty- considering that there were fewer women than men, it was no surprise that it was, "I'll be just outside your cubicle if you need me." She added as the lost child she was escorting went into one to continue with her private business.

"There's no tissue left." The girl's voice whined from inside the cubicle, and officer Marge instinctively proceeded to collect a handful from a neighbouring cubicle. With plenty in both hands, she knocked for the little girl to open the privacy door.

Expecting it to open only slightly, she was unpleasantly shocked when the door flung open violently, and from within the cubicle what was at first the innocent, cute little girl, was the same little terror with hatred in her eyes flinging a dagger attached to a rope into her exposed throat. There wasn't even time for her to comprehend, and even less for her to scream. With a masterful manipulation of the rope, the little girl looped it around the dying policewoman's neck and dragged her into the cubicle before plunging the blade of a sickle attached to the other end of the rope into the back of her neck. An instant enough death- a rare treat from the Demoness.

**A different angle...**

Beautiful simply beautiful I am getting better and better time for the rest of the fun to begin. I couldn't stop the shivering inside of me when I stole the bitch's police-issued pistol but it wasn't a perfect killing tool from my pocket I took a silencer and fitted it onto my new gun- there, perfect. Locking the cubicle I climbed out of the corpse hiding hole and continued to act like the little cunt everyone expects me to be caged bird trying to get out I won't let that bitch out ever she's mine to control.

I am almost there almost done with my mission of revenge justice whatever I don't care which all I care is that I'm having fun before I came to this wimp hole I had already looked over the blueprints over and over again boy is it easy to plan what to do.

"Stop it! Stop it! No, never. Fuck, I said stop! You'll thank me for this." The little bird in me chirped but its nothing I continued back down the corridor the earlier bitch led me through. Disgusting bitches actually held my hand and led me around like a dog I'll show them who the dogs are I could kill a dozen anytime right now those good for nothing assholes.

Basement door, I am almost there opening it I went down a flight of stairs as if descending down to the pits of hell only I'm not the one going to hell everyone who gets in my way and Gigante is for ruining my family he's going down down DOWN. There were a few people in the basement one repairing something I don't give a shit about and two other cunts bitches asses in blue it was easy to solve this problem I just gifted them each with a bullet in the head. The police-issued pistol was so imperfect had I not fixed it with my own toy it would have destroyed my plans I am such a genius I hate being in this outfit I can't wait to get this over with the screams and blood should distract me I'm already starting to pleasure I love getting.

I never really liked the 9mm I took from stupid Marge so I just unloaded the rest of its magazine into a generator and plunged everyone into the sweet darkness I could already hear shouts and screams from the cowards above as I took out my nightvision goggles and silenced Mac-10 from my Hello Kitty bag boy was it easy to fool the metal detector I just have to go through it with a jackass wearing ear rings and belts and shit.

"You're the coward! Murderer! Shut the hell up I'm trying to concentrate! I'll never shut up! Go on screaming your tiny lungs out I don't give a shit." The stupid whiner in me is irritating nevermind I have work to do. Going back up the police station I ran through the corridors full of retarded shitheads groping around there were some with flashlights but I just shot them down before they could see me easy meat boy do I love the way they scream squeal cry like a pig.

Gigante was close I could feel him when I got into the office that Marge bitch was talking about he was supposed to be in his office but he wasn't he was standing outside of it instead easy prey I have seen his photos so many times before of every angle of his body and face I am so going to enjoy making him suffer scream break. Everyone was shouting so no one would know I shot him in the knee first oh that was so good I could hear him from amidst all the mess. I then shot him in the other limbs he was squealing so much that he was starting to attract attention I had to make it quick so I stood over him and fired the rest of my rounds no one would be able to recognise him after this.

I peppered him in the balls, in his stomach and chest and finally his face. Job accomplished I have one final step left to take before I can ever be happy again before the both of us can be happy again I have no doubt about that. Quickly, I took my leave before anyone could shine their torchlight at me it doesn't matter whether I set off the metal detector everything else was going off as criminals were trying to escape and everyone was trying to get out to get a clear view of what was going on. There wasn't as much fun as I hope for but it would do besides there is more that I could do at home anyway, "Please... Yes. No. Yes, you love it, admit it! No!"


	17. Chapter 17: Preparation for War

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 17: Preparation for War**

It took only a little more than an hour for me to realise that Mindy was gone for good, unless I beat the snot out of Demoness to find out where she was. The first location was a bank, and the other was somehow Safehouse B, one of the Macready bases stuffed to the roof with enough firepower to arma platoon of Big Daddies. Everything was fine at the bank- the staff manning the bank had been helpful in searching simply because they recognise me, and there was nothing at Safehouse B. Aldan was mistaken, he was no professor X, just one of us trying to do good.

We had to retreat to a hotel room rented out to Grandmaster. Without my dear sister it would not be possible to enter Marcus' residence without alerting the police, though I have to admit, our new base of operations was nice, with good facilities and a soft large bed that I can't sleep in. Yet.

Instinctively, I switched on the plasma T.V before either of us could start talking, "Shocking incident that left ten dead, including on Detective Gigante, a known hero for putting some of the most corrupt cops, such as Damon Macready and Andy Hinderland, behind bars. The gunman's identity is still unknown, but authorities suspect this to be the work of Tim Downing, one of New York's druglords affiliated with the D'Amico crime family." A video of the action taken from a CCTV was shown, but it was mostly darkness with screams, gun-flares and loud bangs.

"My daughter..." The Grandmaster uttered as if in a trance. The way I saw it, he was just missing Nevaeh, at least, from what I understood about him.

"Yep, I'd bet my entire Fantastic 4 collection that that's her." Who else could it be? Frank Castle? Max Payne? James Bond? What, Big Daddy or Hit-Girl? It was bound to be Demoness.

"I saw the silhouette of a young lady." The Grandmaster explained as he remained in his trance of grief. He has always been mystical to me, like the Elves in the Lord of the Rings series, or the island from Lost. He was that strange, "It was her; no other young lady would hold a large pistol in such a manner." Yep, he was able to pick it all up from a silhouette that no one in the wide world even noticed at all- it must have lasted only for a few frames. The force was with him.

"But why? Why would my Nevaeh slay the police? Is her soul so corrupted that she would do the devil's bidding?" Questions were starting to sprout as the Swordsman lamented about Demoness the way Shakespeare would. All I can say is, if Hit-Girl was doing the same thing, I'd be saying the same thing except not so Shakespeare-like. Funny thing is, I've already asked the same questions when my dear Mindy decides to become a schoolyard bully of all things.

"She's doing it for revenge, that's all I know." The answer was obvious, but I was still a fuck-up considering that I raised more questions than I solved. I wasn't even the one who discovered the half-albino's dirty little secret.

"Yes, she's been striking against outlaws and policemen alike..." My line was stoken, but professor Charles Xavier was back, and it was warming up into a Batman and Robin exchange.

"Well, small timers, then big fishes." I couldn't help but to feel excited at our progress, the way the next step was always before us. It was even better than Guitar Hero.

"Yes, but where will my daughter..." Another question was almost asked, but somehow, I already had the answer in my head. If only I was this smart during my year-end exams.

"The D'Amico family, or what's left of it. The empire's still large now thanks to Christopher." Was my model answer. Take a note. It's my best one yet.

"Agreed, but should you be wrong, we will still be ridding the world of decades-old scum." We knew then what to do, we knew all along. Like some gruff old veteran detective in a typical film noir movie, we had been tailing Demoness long enough, and we knew where she would strike next, "I will never forget how the same rot of this city had destroyed my family, torn it apart like a rabid dog."

"How about we rest for the day? I don't think it's a good idea to stay awake anymore..." I yawned halfway through my sentence, unintentionally making a point. This time around, Aldan wasn't very agreeable, but he did understand in the end. How are you going to fight New York City's worse supervillain when you're nearly KO from fatigue right from the beginning? "How about meeting after dinner? My dad's bringing in Pizza, I don't wanna miss that."

After toasting to our parting of ways, I left immediately for home, took a cab back to the suburbs. By the time I climbed through the window into my room it was five thirty-five in the morning, and before I knew what happened, everything became dark and mute.

**Some time later...**

By the time I woke up, my room was just white, plain white, like heaven. I rubbed my eyes- they were a little swollen and sore- they've had quite an overdrive at midnight. Slowly, I adjusted to the sudden change of brightness, and I saw, as blur my vision was without specs, someone at the window. Just a clichéd silhouette that I couldn't recognise. Someone tall and a little on the chubby side.

I wasn't sure who the hell it was, so I decided to try my Kick-Ass stealth mode. Slowly, I sat upright, my hands thrusting my upper body upwards, and I felt synthetic rubber, the same kind I wore on my outings. The same yellow gloves. It started crying as I squeezed my fingers slightly. So much for being subtle. Then, I realised my whole body was covered in the same material except for my face. I had forgotten all about my uniform before bedtime. As tragic as it sounds, I'm still stuck somewhere in the basic syllabus of being a superhero.

The silhouette turned around, and as my eyes adjusted better to the morning (was it morning? I couldn't tell) sun the guy before me became more familiar- curly grey and brown hair, security jacket, like I said, chubby. Kinda old. He was my dad.

"Holy shit!" I shouted. I was like a girl caught in bed with her newest hundredth boyfriend. I was caught in bed, in full costume including all the gadgets I carry around. There was no escape this time, it wasn't just some cheap merchandise my friends Marty and Todd bought from Atomic Comics Cafe for my birthday. Anyone could tell I was the real deal.

"Dave! You're awake!" My father exclaimed, excited for some reason. It was then I noticed- my mask was in his right hand. My own father had unmasked me, exposed my identity. I was overfed with comics and out came a remote idea that should've remained in the pages of my entertainment.

"Who's outside the room?" I was panicking, and I could see some shock in my father's face. Guilt? The feeling you get from being discovered? Misunderstanding? Thank goodness my insanity born from anxiety could only go so far because my third guess was the correct one.

"Dave! Relax! It's alright." My father tried to reason with me. It worked way before he said my name. I calmed down in record time, and this allowed him to explain himself, "Sit down... and we'll talk about this." He gestured to the mask as he said so. I did as I was told, and didn't know what to expect from the awkwardness. There was another of the million same uncomfortable pause for a while. The silence was more deafening than the rattling of a submachinegun right next to my ear- and believe me, I was there before.

Half the time I expect being yelled at for half the day, the other half, well, I was expecting the kind of warm pride you'd get from Uncle Ben. In the cracks between those two, I expect him to cry and tell me how disappointed he was at me for risking my neck when there was already a death in the family. It was one of the longest, most brain-crunching moment in the whole globe as I waited for my father to speak. I couldn't even bring myself to look him in the eyes; that's a great deal considering how I could do it effortlessly for like... Ever.

"Dave, I knew it was you all along." It wasn't how I expect the conversation would start. I was expecting it to go along the lines of, 'Why did you do it, Dave?' I was anticipating something bad, it was so much worse this way. My mouth became dry upon hearing those few words.

"What? Since when?" I managed to croak even when my mind was wiped blank from the revelation.

"You're my son, Dave. I could recognise you even when you're in a mask and sports suit. I knew it was you when the mob decided to put you on television. Kinda started suspecting when I found your room empty on one of those days when someone else decided to substitute me mid-shift." My father explained, and I remained zipped, "Those were the times- I wanted so much to tell you that I knew, that you should stop permanently-like, but..." There was a pause, and my father's face screwed slightly in concentration.

"It's your life, and you're helping people, making things exciting. Granted, you got hurt but... I'm proud of you, son." It was unpredictable, but at the very least, the encounter went my way. What else would any parents do when they discovered that their child was outside parading in a costume, carrying weapons, mixing with half-bad company, getting his ass kicked?

It was then that I knew, with an adult maturity that I never had, an adult maturity that I lacked to stop me from becoming Kick-Ass in the first place, that my father was the best in the world, and I was the luckiest high school dude in the whole globe, well, except for the times when I was really getting my ass kicked into different shapes and sizes.

Before I could say anything, my father took the lead as he always did in our conversations, "Come on, son. I've got just the thing to help you with those bruises and cuts you keep getting," and started up from the bed with an almost youthful vigour that he never really had, and went out of the room and down the stairs. I followed him- he reminded me of a normal-sized Filius Flitwick...

He lead me down to the basement where I worked on my new and improved suit, and where I salvaged most of my gadgets, so not the way Bruce Wayne would browse through his selections in his warehouse.

"So, dad, why're we down here?" As always, I was aloof and ignorant, though this time it was for the better, as it would have ruined the surprise. I could see him beaming at me enthusiastically like a boy during playtime even in the dark. Before long, the lights were flipped on, and in the middle of the normally desolate and dirty basement was a clean spot with a crate, and on top of the crate, a vest and helmet. My mouth was a perfect 'O' when I saw it. It was like Batman's ultimate and final bat suit in the middle of the movie. My original design was like Adam West's Halloween costume, and the current something I thought was even better than Batman's uniform because it's real.

"I bought it off the in-ter-net, those hard things. Took me a while how to learn to use the desktop computer in the lounge, but yep, I did it and modelled it out. Took me a few weeks to get it right." Before us stood a Kevlar vest, one of those strong enough to stand rifle shots, which was painted over in blue and yellow in patterns matching my synthetic rubber suit. The helmet looks like it might have been pillaged straight out of a S.W.A.T armoury, and it was the same blue as my uniform with yellow stripes at the side.

"Wow, dad, I didn't know you're this creative!" I praised in excitement as I paced around the two new hardware- they were wicked. It would put Kick-Ass in a permanent spotlight, and they would put Kick-Ass out of harm's way. The first impression I had was that I would become immortal in both ways. It would be useful in my final battle, or what I thought would be my final battle- it couldn't come at a better timing.


	18. Chapter 18: Return

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 18: Return**

The rest of my morning was spent with my father- we talked about superheroes in general, comic books. It was like a great leap forward for the both of us- never in our life had we spoken so much to each other before. Blame it on the generation gap thing. There's about 30 years between me and my dad. Try comparing the Superman movie in 1978 and the 2006 version.

We talked about my super-secret exploits as Kick-Ass- how I started wondering about real-life superheroes, how I trained and made my first actual contribution to the law and justice, and how I joined forces with Big Daddy and Hit-Girl to take down the D'Amico crime family. We talked about my present 'challenge'- boy was it the hardest subject to talk about yet. Nevermind my first failure that ended in a horrific car accident as that's history. In talking about my final round with the albino, I feel like a son going to Vietnam or Iraq.

My father was torn between letting me go and grounding me, but eventually he slackened his grip on me. If I know him right enough, I'd say he must have understood why I need to do this- because I'm now something more than just Dave Lizewski, and I have a mission that involved saving many lives. Plus, I knew he wouldn't want to go back on his word of supporting me in my masked vigilante efforts.

We talked into the afternoon, over lunch, and into our dinner, consisting of pizza and root beer. We were never like father and son than before, this interested in each other as though we were new mint copies of the latest Ultimate X-men comic books.

Eventually, there is always an end to things, the way there is always an end to the world's best comic book series. Our time to appreciate each other came to an end when the sun was setting, and it was time for me to be Kick-Ass again.

Back then, before dad came forward admitting that he knew the city's blue crusader was his own son, I was always alone inside, even when dad was around me, even when I was just chilling out with my friends. The loneliness was lifted only slightly when I was around Mindy, as I could relate easily with her without exposing my superhero persona. While my real identity's about as awkward as she was able to take down a pair of mobsters, we had many things in common on the flipside- as costumed vigilantes.

Now, I have a father who I could be transparent with, one who could actually send me off. While I was putting on my gear, he was there to advise me, be it with lessons on life, or with some tips in combat that he learnt in his work as a security guard, or with adjusting my protective gear to my fitting. The fact was that he was there for me, and I feel energised.

It was back to business when I sneak out from the backyard of my home- I had become an expert in getting in or out of my home undetected- it was one of the few things I was able to do right. I had to hail another cab with a driver who thinks he's lucky to pick up a superhero. It was hard to get him to drive me to the hotel Mr. Medieval was in, with him asking too many questions. Getting a superhero-mobile was something I can never get right for years unfortunately until I get a full-time job and a car license.

**Some time later...**

"Hello?" Angie D'Amico answered through the phone as Peter, one of her men who was in charge of security, called her, "Make it quick, the meeting is about to start, I'm sure you know."

"Er... We have a problem." Peter said, unsure of how to best portray the situation to the last D'Amico, the wife of Frank and mother of Christopher, and subsequently their successor to the D'Amico crime family. The 'business' had already sustained many humiliating losses, and could not handle another.

"What problem?" The woman was becoming agitated, and she had every right to be. After losing her entire immediate family to some masked vigilantes, several branches of her business and millions worth of bread and butter, she had plenty to worry about.

"We're... The police are at the main entrance." Peter replied, stuttering- there was more to it than just a few policemen.

"Just let them in, they won't find anything." Angie was doing all she could to calm herself down, but beads of sweat were already starting to form on her forehead even as she was sitting in a spacious conference room with massive air conditioning systems and numerous friends of the family for company- the most loyal lieutenants of the crime family.

"They're not just here to poke around, Ma'am." Peter's voice was wavering as his eyes were focused on the computer monitor before him that was showing the street outside. He was in a dark room- a central security room outfitted with the latest computer and electronic hardware, wired to every camera in the entire skyscraper. It was the brain behind all of the security devices in the tower- from trip-laser activated alarms right down to the overhead sprinklers that could be activated in case the smoke detectors fail.

"What do you mean? How did you know this?" The third head of the family was becoming anxious- they had always been able to throw the police off, for decades his husband did, and for months her unexpectedly talented son did.

"Er... I think they've sent everything they got on us- dozens of police cruisers, a few SWAT trucks, a few helicopters. There's like a hundred of cop-pers at our front door!" Peter was describing the scene outside- it was like one of those from a police movie, a grand set with the entire police force at the front lawn of some small house.

"What!" Angie exclaimed while at the same time kept her voice down to avoid raising any concerns in her right-hand men. Her eyes shifting to check if her lieutenants had suspected anything, she whispered into the phone on her side of the conference table. While she may have learnt quite a bit from her husband in the tricks of the crime trade, there was nothing any self-respecting crime lord could do in a predicament like this- other than to somehow escape American justice and restart the business in some other state or country, "Put everyone on alert. I want my tower defended at all costs. Is there anything else?"

"Er... No, there's nothing else." Just as he was waiting for his new boss to hang up, he spotted something behind the police army- a shadow of blackness, with some patches of whiteness contrasting with the blackness. The shadow had, under the nose of the patrolmen holding the police barricades against a crowd of curious onlookers. The police captain taking point of the operation casually ordered two of his men to escort out the intruder, who appears to be a little girl in winter-wear with a thick cap worn so low that it obscured her face, "Wait, wait, wait! I think I saw..."

All of a sudden, one of the police officers was arching his back backwards, his hands clutching his throat. Where his head was, there was a faint shade of red and a flash of metal- it was a flying dagger. With a rapid spin, the girl in winter-wear severed the leg of the other police officer cleanly, using some kind of a sickle weapon attached to the same rope connected to the dagger, "Hello? Hello? What'd you see?"

In a blink of an eye, she had two silenced pistols drawn out, and she was shooting at the officers, making sure every bullet hits- not even the best marksman under the D'Amicos were this accurate and deadly. The policemen were caught totally off-guard from their rear and before they could react, she was already charging towards the main entrance, which a squad of SWAT officers had just busted through with a ram. A grenade blew up amidst the group of SWAT cops, as if it came out of nowhere, and like a cheetah, the girl lunged through the smoke. Another camera close to the main door captured the action as if it was a movie scene.

"I think I saw... Hit Girl." The security goon was starting to lose his voice at the thought of meeting the legend that slaughtered an entire platoon of his friends during a previous assault on their fortress by the same girl in mask and cape. He was lucky to be in another stronghold of the business.

"Wait, it's that Demoness girl- news said she's an albino." Another guard in the security room corrected Peter- he was just as anxious as his boss and buddy. Be her Hit Girl or Demoness, it doesn't change the fact that they were facing an indomitable force found in an unlikely element- a girl who's probably two to three times younger than the average age of a regular thug.

"Demoness... I saw Demoness, she went through our front door!" Peter quickly corrected himself as his eyes started following the little bundle of destruction until she disappeared himself the heavy steel doors of one of the building's lift.

"Well, fix it! I'm not calling off this meeting!" Angie D'Amico barked her orders in a hushed tone before hanging up, her forehead slick with cold sweat.

"You alright, boss?" A rather large and imposing man asked, concerned, his sweet manners glaringly unnatural to him as he paid respect to his boss.

"I'm fine, ju-just a small problem." Angie replied unconvincingly. The other crime lords were starting to eye her warily, analysing her for any signs of trouble up at the front, "It'd be fixed in a blink of an eye, and shall we start our meeting?"

Her lieutenants could only trust her words alone, but her nervous giggle betrayed her otherwise sincere statement. She was never really a natural at this trade- previously, she was just a woman, a wife and a girl who was living the millionaire dream, albeit with a criminal element to it. Angie D'Amico had always tried to live apart from it- little did she know she'd have to take charge after her son died little more than a few months after succeeding his father. In a desolate corner of her mind, she knew she may well join his family pretty soon- but in another corner of her mind, she was confident that the hundred plus odd henchmen she inherited from her son should be enough to cushion her against the little menace invading her home ground.

**Meanwhile...**

This is it. It was time for action. The years I lived through, well, barely, had all been building up to this point, when I nab my biggest (or smallest) criminal yet. We were staking out in trench coats when we saw her- it wasn't easy to miss the little girl; she was literally leaving a bloody trail of destruction in her wake, taking down officer after officer, taking them out with some ninja weapons and shooting many in the back, even the SWAT cops. I was expecting New York's finest to do better, but I can't blame them. They were taken by surprise, and they don't shoot children.

By the time she was done and sprinting towards the main entrance of the D'Amico tower, more than half the policemen there were dead. It reminds me of how the Dark Phoenix had easily wasted hundreds in the last X-men movie. Wolverine had to put Jean to rest- I'd have to do the same to this girl, or Grandmaster. She may be a victim, but she's destruction.

With the police in disarray and everyone else running around in a spree of panic, we didn't need to worry about anyone stopping us from entering the warzone that was the D'Amico tower- this was the moment I had been working for. The comic-book fan in me had dreamt of something this grand ever since the beginning, and the superhero in me had anticipated this- hundreds, if not thousands would be saved, as vengeance can never be satiated, that much I learnt from the saga I started nine months ago- in a way, I've learnt that ever since I started teleporting myself into the world of the comic-books.

Throwing off our heavy trench coats and putting on the stuff we were hiding behind it while we were in disguise, we made a run towards the main entrance of the building, my batons out and Grandmaster's long sword drawn. This is it.


	19. Chapter 19: The Ascend

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 19: The Ascend**

We ran towards the warzone, into the thick of battle. The police could only watch us as we joined in the fray to do the work for them. They were too beat up to stop anyone, criminal or otherwise, just like in any famous superhero media.

We were there, we saw the action ourselves- Demoness wrecking havoc on the entire police army there, before disappearing into the building through a curtain of smoke. New York's finest had their chance. We didn't interfere with their encounter with the city's latest Venom- we thought they could knock her down or put her to sleep (and out of her misery). We were wrong.

She who shall not be named was gone when we entered the lobby of the familiar skyscraper. There was no movement- everyone was either dead or retreating elsewhere.

I know what's going through your mind- that hundreds have failed and died before us, that the chance a highschooling boy and a quaint old man have was about the same as how possible it was for a bank robber to beat Superman. Except... It was different. I had a plan, and our villain, like any other self-respecting villain, had a certain weakness for us. She'd want to test herself against us, fight on a level ground. She would want it slow and painful, knowing her. We could use that.

The only movement was coming from the elevator tracker above the steel doors- it was then that I remembered- she's going for the last head of the D'Amico Empire, and she'd most likely be at the top. The arrow stopped just below the top floor.

"Aldan, she's looking for the big fish now!" I advised my quaint friend- he's older, but I'm still the more experienced superhero, at least where the D'Amico crime family was concerned, "At the top floor!"

"Let us go then." Grandmaster replied calmly as he punched the button to summon the same, only lift. It was a long wait, both while we were outside and while we were inside listening to some elevator music that seemed too cheerful for the situation. I could only wonder what was happening on top as we ascend.

**Somewhere else...**

So much pain so much suffering the screams are beautiful music the thugs were nothing but practice dummies all a bunch of girlish wimps waiting to be slaughtered like the pigs they are. How much I love it when they scream when they scream differently each time they die how they fall differently, react differently to my shots cuts differently.

I love it when I sever their limbs I like blood splashed unto me from the first few fools that died that way through the power of my blessed sickle I love my weapons my only friends. The blood I showered in it I feel refreshed when the blood sprays on my face it tasted so good each kill rejuvenates me for the finale of my act.

I was wading through blood and bodies something in me tried to get out free itself leave I won't let it or it would ruin the fun orgy pleasure and my vengeance. Irritating bothersome I swallowed it hard again to push it back down when I descend into the vents just a few more steps to go before my vengeance is complete I will kill them all rend them apart destroy them all burn them until the police dogs won't be able to ID them at all.

I like it here in the vents, dark and gloomy and leading me to where I will murder more and exact my justified cruelty on the leader. She's getting closer, I can see the light painful light! They were still talking- all top bastards are ever good for is talking like the bitches they are I will give them something to talk about.

The softie in me fights less good she was irritating I would have shot myself in the guts just to shut her up a bit. It's time for action they would love what I have in store for them. Breaking the vent cover I dropped several incendiary grenades and within seconds I could hear the much desired screams that sounds like the chorus of an angel to me singing with the explosion that was good so far.

I jumped down the ceiling into the conference room after that and started letting fly my bullets the sound of bodies falling lifeless dead so many burning the smell makes me hungry for more pain blood killing reminds me of hell I would love to go there and work for Satan.

There were twenty over of them it doesn't matter my submachinegun mows them down like grass weed worms it is a shame it ran out too soon and I have to discard it for my pistols Fuckers! A bullet grazed me in the leg I took cover and fire back cunts cowards they are retreating out the large doors the frag grenade I threw didn't shred pulverise all of them.

Angie D'Amico is among the eight meat bags left shooting pussy shots at me she is the head I need to chop lob cut sever off so I go after them they will die I will dance on their corpse and grave.

**Meanwhile...**

It was a massacre inside- we found dead men in any kind of death pose imaginable by Clive Barker. Some died simply by several gunshot wounds. Others weren't so lucky. It was Hit-Girl in the drug apartment all over again, except much worse, with a more vicious actor in an extended director's cut. Some had no head, others had fewer limbs than normal. We found many burnt-up things in the conference room. It reminded me of an airplane crash photo I came across on the net one fine random day. It made me an instant insomniac for a few weeks if I recall correctly. This one's worth a few months plus a sick to the stomach kind of feeling.

It was simple- we just had to follow the trail of dead bodies, the shouts and screams, and the gunshots. As we were running towards the chaos far ahead, there were footsteps in an intersecting corridor, so we pressed ourselves against the wall to hide. We knew we'd run into some D'Amico soldiers who were still breathing sooner or later.

Most of them were carrying pistols, one of them had a shotgun. It didn't matter when we jumped on them. With my batons drawn I started whacking at one of them- there were five of them. My first swipe caught him in the head. He lifted his pistol, training it on me but my instincts just took over like some super-secret superpower. Somehow, I was able to knock the gun away and give him another few more in the head before he fainted.

The Grandmaster was doing the majority of the work- he was just simply awesome, like a samurai or ninja. He brought his sword down on the shotgun fellow, who blocked the overhead slice with his shotgun. He didn't last very long. In another instant, Aldan fixed the shotgun dude problem with a second slice across his chest before moving on to spinning and delivering a powerful blow that killed another mobster quite instantly.

I was on to my second enemy by that time, and I was having more trouble with this one as he seemed to know a bit of kung fu and was dodging my batons like Jackie Chan. I was on my own, as Aldan was busy pursuing another criminal who decided to run, which was actually the smart thing to do.

Nothing seemed to work on this guy- I tried whacking him across the face, bringing both my batons down on him or sideways at him but he dodged them all. On my last move, he kicked me in the chest forcefully, throwing me backwards, stumbling and trying to regain my balance. As I was steadying myself, he cocked his pistol and fired at me- my balance was history. My blue Kick-Ass batons flew out of my reach as I fell like a cartoon character who slipped on a banana with the smoothness of a wet soap bar.

A second shot jolted my body as I reached for my taser. I was pissed at the kungfu gun-wielder. Just as he was about to fire a third shot, I shocked him and while he was on the ground, kicked him around the head so hard that he skin on his forehead split and bled, and he fainted, "Fuck you!" Not exactly a very original and heroic line, but it did the trick anyway.

As I swore, a sharp pain erupted around my chest region- it was totally abused by the kung-fu gun-wielder. I was afraid that the day I took a bullet would come anytime- and it did. A chill ran down my spine as I ran my hand down the area I was shot at and looked down as I slumped onto the corridor wall nearest to me.

"Thanks, Dad." The bullets had not penetrated my vest at all. Better bruised than two holes where my heart was. Aldan returned a while later after I removed the bullets.

"Are you wounded?" Grandmaster asked as I was clutching my chest. While my heart was still beating, my lungs just had the winds knocked out of them. It was like getting punched by Steve Austin.

"Nah, I'm good, let's go get our little devil." I tried the art of wisecracking, but I fell short, way too short. Good thing Aldan was too 'unhip' to notice anything substandard.

"Remember, please, do not hurt Nevaeh." As usual, at the mention of his own daughter, the old man's voice became brimming with emotions that just doesn't fit with the image he's putting up- that of an armour-encased knight straight from the castles of Gondor, "She's still a child, and my daughter."

"Yeah... We'll just subdue and interrogate her," and my voice was just oozing with uncertainty that sounded like it could kill Aldan's daughter, literally. It was half intentional, half stupidity.

"Hear me, I will save her even if it means forfeiting life or right arm." The Grandmaster was almost snarling at me as he was jabbing me with his sharp and strong index finger. It felt like he was jabbing me with his sword. I half-expected him to lift me up in the air with just one arm like the Undertaker as he tried convincing me not to hurt Demoness, "Should you do otherwise, by God I swear I'll... Kill you." Somehow, I doubt he would, despite his contorted face, gritted teeth and fierce, commanding tone. Ever since teaming up with him in the alleyway battle that ended with Mindy's beloved stepfather being riddled with lead, I knew: He's a man of very high moral ideals, not unlike all my favourite heroes from the golden and silver age.

Still, I was quite shocked, and I could only nod in agreement, though we knew we may have to mangle Nevaeh a bit- incapacitate her enough to stop her from flying around like Super Girl.

The noise of Demoness' personal crusade was growing louder the further we ran along the corridors of the penthouse. I've never remembered the place to be this large before. There was so much I hadn't explore yet in my first raid of the tower- The D'Amico Penthouse had more than one level, now that I certainly did not know.

The trail of bodies, blood and gore lead us out into the open, up a flight of stairs that broke away to reveal the sky- we had pursued Demoness all the way to the rooftop. As the first blast of freezing air hit me, my first thought was: Bad omen. I remembered clearly how I was steamrolled over relentlessly by Demoness in my previous roof top party.

Just as we emerged out into the open, there was another series of gunshots, and more bodies fell- all of D'Amico's bodyguards died in one fell swoop, their corpses littering the rooftop floor, along with their blood and weapons. Just as we caught sight of what was happening, Demoness fired a single bullet into the guts of Angie D'Amico from her remaining single pistol- she had discarded her second pistol.

It was like a strange, dramatic window in a comic book. Everything sort of froze. I could observe every single detail on site- from the pained and shocked facial expression on the last D'Amico's face, to how Demoness, as much as I hate to admit, expertly handled her pistol, to how the bullet whizzed into Angie's shapely belly and how the blood sprayed outwards- its form and direction were precisely recorded into my head.

Several more shots were fired at the very last column that held up the D'Amico crime family followed by a series of clicks that meant Demoness had just ran out of bullets, and as Angie D'Amico was standing on the edge of the roof, she fell after a second's pause. There was a high-pitched scream like nothing I heard of before. It was like another scene from a comic book after that. The Demoness lowered her weapon and just stood there with her back facing us, about as still as a Gargoyle. Whether she knew we were there, I had no idea.

There was no need to find out at all. Dropping her remaining firearm limply after making her final kill, like some Samurai ready for a battle that may end with everyone's death, she unsheathed her twin Katanas slowly and steadily, with a surgeon's steadiness or a robot's firm grip. Turning her head slightly to regard us as her back was still facing us, she said in a rather bone-chilling way, "The final soul to take, served on my plate..."


	20. Chapter 20: Face Off

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 20: Face Off**

"Where's Mindy?" I was straight to the point- I'm just not one of those supporters of the sort of clichéd last chat that every protagonist and villain would always seem to share. I couldn't wait any longer anyway- Mindy could be bleeding half to death. Over the months, I had grown so close to her, and for her to be taken away just like that on an average night of crime-fighting was quite a shock to my system.

"Somewhere close." A maniacal grin was forming on Demoness' face again. It was something I can never get used to- to think that months ago, I thought the Joker was the most demented and disturbing person I had ever seen. The truth's much stranger than fiction, "Doesn't matter, you will die, and I will kill her after that, slow... Steady... And fucking surely."

"Nevaeh! Stop this madness right now! We could always talk, please!" My elderly companion was almost pleading, half parenting a wayward child, half wanting to just end the killing spree and reign of terror as an enforcer of the law.

"Shut the fuck up, Whitey! I know who my father was!" The half-albino snapped back, barely leaving space for Aldan to breathe after he spoke, "Now which one of you here wants to die first?"

"Nevaeh-" Aldan, as always, wanted to continue on with his diplomacy, but from the looks of his face, he was out of luck and his card game was totalled. I could see it in his face- a mix of panic over the total lack of logic and compassion in his daughter, anxiety, loss of words, and utter, merciless sadness.

I was surprised at the sudden other mutation in me- the increased EQ. Before this whole mess with Demoness and the death of Red Mist started, I had no idea at all how people work- A contribution factor towards my need for the Kick-Ass uniform to gain a chance with Katie Deauxma. I guess it came with the experience of jousting with foes and teaming up with friends.

"Eeny-" Back to reality, the little imp was ignoring her father, and as she was choosing between us who to start scrambling around with first, she was getting ready. Throwing her left Katana up and catching it, holding it underhanded, she continued the fatal Russian Roulette, using her eyes as the spinning revolver, "Meeny-"

"Miny," Her red eyes shifted between the two of us. They weren't just throwing daggers, they were shooting sniper bullets. Her glance had just left me and it fell on the Grandmaster, "Moe!" But it returned to me with a vengeance. Nevaeh was obviously aiming at me, seeing that I was the 'last soul to take'. With that, she made the charge at us, and after looking at eath other, we did the same.

She had guillotines for arms and pile drivers for legs- I had felt them before. I was brave at first and I'd bet many of you would say stupid or foolhardy, but I was the complete opposite when I got close enough to her. A five meter radius was too close for comfort.

Grandmaster went ahead with it, and immediately he was getting parried non-stop and he had to keep blocking with his buckler and ornate long sword. He was on the defensive. He would have been proud of Demoness if she wasn't for real. I knew I had to help, the way Demoness was delivering one slash after another, rearing and spinning to deal blows one more devious and powerful than the previous one, "Get out of my way, fuck!"

"I knew I couldn't be more selfish, so I jumped right in. As skilled as Aldan was, he would never allow himself to harm his own daughter. Conversely, Demoness loves to inflict pain on anyone, and they can be crooks, strangers or me.

As soon as I stepped into the ring, a Katana was coming my way- it was Demoness spinning in mid-air, swinging her sword to decapitate me. I barely dodged it, and I was instantly afraid again. I was paralysed from doing anything but to watch out for the next blow- even with my vest and helmet, I feel practically naked.

An unexpected straight kick was directed at me, but I was able to block it with my batons- being a coward has its rewards. Thankfully, Aldan was there to distract her from giving me a killing combo or something. He tried shield-bashing her, but with a slight twist of her body it missed totally, then with a counterattack she delivered a full slash in his stomach. Somehow, despite the breastplate Aldan was wearing, Nevaeh's Katana was able to slash through the steel as if it was aluminium foil. I could see a flash of red from where I was pushed back by Demoness's kick.

"Felt that?" Demoness taunted as Grandmaster was stumbling backwards, his left hand clutching his bleeding stomach. This drove me forwards to defend my new friend, and somehow beat her into submission to save an old friend, Mindy. I aimed an overhead blow to her head but caught her in the left shoulders instead. It was better than nothing, considering that I failed to even touch her in our previous duel on the rooftop. There was a girlish yelp, and Demoness retreated slightly, quite stunned, "You'll die for that!"

With that, she charged forward, leapt forward still in a blur, and delivered a spinning horizontal slash at me with her twin blades. Ducking to avoid the fatal blow, I swung my right baton on my knees, but I was out of luck. She was too fast, and before I knew it, she gave me another spinning blow on the ground, aimed at my head. The helmet protected me, but I was knocked over to my side, the force rocking my mind and for a long time, I could see nothing but whiteness.

If it weren't for Aldan, I would have been dead. My vision recovered just enough to witness him lunging at his daughter when she least expected it, knocked her down with her father pinning her down on top. I could barely sit up- my brain was just too scrambled. It isn't everyday that you barely survived a decapitation by taking a sword to the temple.

"Get up! Kick-Ass!" Aldan cried as I was still recovering from what would have been a fatal blow had it not been for my father, "I've held her down!" Beneath him was a struggling Demoness, who had lost her swords, as did her father who had to throw aside his sword for this.

Before I could do anything however, Demoness was somehow able to slip loose her right hand and she started punching Grandmaster in his medieval helmet-covered face. It didn't help that she had built-in knuckle dusters. She was able to deliver a few punches and jam her steel-tipped shoe into his deep slash wound. She was able to free herself as she forced Aldan aside by the pain from his stomach.

Unsheathing a combat knife, she rolled over to crouch above Grandmaster and savagely stabbed my friend in the chest. Surprisingly, it went quite deep- it sank down to the hilt into Aldan. I never knew my senior and adept superhero teammate was capable of screaming until then. It shocked me fully awake to hear him scream like never before. Grabbing both of my batons which weren't very far away, I got up and clumsily brought my right baton sideways at the unsuspecting Demoness, but apparently, she had eyes on the back of her head. Rolling away further to the left of my friend, she picked up one of her Katanas, before assuming a stylish kneeling position with her sword overhead, pointing at me Samurai style, "No more big daddy to save you now..." Another one of those impish grins- it never failed to deliver a cold wave at me.

It was me and her again, another duel, except this time, chances were she'd execute me and it would be game over after that. So here I am, my butt poking backwards and my sticks pointing forward, with my nemesis getting up into a fighting stance with her sword held low with both hands, ready to cut me in half from the waist. I was surprised how it all led up to this point, with me still surprisingly alive and well enough, even when the more capable people, namely everyone, was either dead below or wounded with me. So here I am on the rooftop, with a dying friend and many dead killer suits piled everywhere, a kid only half-ready to die for the denizens of New York. None of it mattered anyway, when the imp before me surged forward.

With another spin of her body, she delivered another horizontal slash, this time aimed at my waist. I was able to escape it this time by taking a few huge steps back. She continued swinging her sword at me in many various techniques that I couldn't care about except to avoid, and all the while, all I could do to live was to keep retreating, that was, until I was backed up against the ledge of the roof, "Still running, asshole?" She taunted as she lifted her samurai sword up while I panicked left, right, centre.

As she brought the deadliest type of sword in the world down upon me, I jumped sideways, barely avoiding the cut that would have split my face into two- it was then that I started feeling the effects of carrying too much gear. No wonder Bruce Wayne decided on a lighter suit in the second movie, "You won't be running for long!" In a flash of a second, it got me thinking, why the hell am I chickening out? With my friend needing the ambulance soon and another somewhere tied up, probably half-dead at the tender age of 11, I was still running like a common page filler in a comic book. All I stood for an entire year, all came back to me in one shot, like a free movie download just completed.

"Hell I will!" I cried as I got up again and pointed my baton forward in a ready position.

"I am so going to enjoy this!" Demoness paused for a second to say, before flashing another one of her twisted smiles. I found myself unfazed this time by it, as if I had just mastered the energies of the universe or something. Even then, I was still smart enough not to go aggressive on her; it would just backfire. Like all the time, she started it first. Running forward, she gave a diagonal slash from the left down. Living up to my promise, I decided to stop running, so I twisted my body to avoid it. She aimed for my head next, but being much shorter than me, she had to throw an upwards slash at my head, so I ducked.

My confidence was soon broken however, when she did her matrix trick again- she was too blindingly fast that it was impossible to believe. Within the same second, she landed a cut on my stomach, but thankfully, modern technology and traditional parenting had protected my muscle bag from being chopped up. Instead, the cloth of my Kevlar vest was torn, and the trauma blade exposed. With another slice, she did the same to my chest before I could react and when I did by blocking with both my batons again in a cross-block, she broke one of them, cleanly cutting it in two.

With a fifth slice after a spin, I had to lean back to avoid having my head split into two horizontally. It was then that I decided to go on the offensive without knowing what gave me that idea. Lunging forward as she was recovering from her latest strike, I swung my baton but it was blocked she blocked it with her sword. Aiming a whack at her ghostly-white hair covered head, I missed again as she deftly dodged me. Swinging in the opposite direction did not help, and as I was adjusting myself after spending all my efforts on the offensive, the Demoness started again, taking advantage of the fact that I had opened myself up for another counterstrike.

The albino exploited it fully, and I knew full well what I had done to myself. I was prepared to die when a full swing was aimed at by chest, tearing away at the fabric and loosening the plate protecting my front so much that it fell off. I could feel a cut where my diaphragm was- the only thing I could be glad about was that my diaphragm was still there. It was only skin deep.

The only thing I could do was to salvage the situation, do some damage control. As the Katana was swung in an opposite direction at me, I backed away, my left arm shielding my head from the guillotine. I could feel the cold metal invading my upper arm. Before I could look up or fight back, I was given a hard kick in the knee which numbed my legs and another that knocked me off-balance and I crumbled back down to the floor- I was always well acquainted with the floors of my battlefield that I'm used to it. As soon as I hit the ground, exhausted to the max, totally wasted and bleeding, the Demoness laughed- there's no prize for guessing why.

"So bloody weak. So full of shit." The Demoness started insulting me. I was all beat up, so much that I could barely understand her at all, but with every word her meaning gets clearer, and more penetrative, "No surprise you were stabbed and knocked down by a car."

"Fuck you!" I was about as articulate as a grade school dropout as I was on the floor, utterly beaten. It was all I could say, and it wasn't what I cared about. I was more worried about how she knew about the incident.

"No surprise your 'friends' suffered from your fuck-ups." My wormtongue nemesis continued with her psychological warfare. As much as I want to brag about being resolute and hard emotionally as steel, the reality was way off. My blood boiled, but most of all she had me- there was guilt and pain curried in me. What she said was the truth and that was the depressing part. There was so much pain at one go that I was choking in it- coupled with my physical torment I was sitting ducks, like the Green Lantern without his ring.

How did she know? The magic question kept flashing in my head. At first, it was a puzzle as impossible as the Rubrik's Cube, but then it became obvious- she could have interrogated Mindy, used some kind of truth serum or cruel torture. How did she know? That question was just a flicker compared to the mountain of regret I had for the past, and I was squashed under that mountain.

Mindy had never gained anything ever since I came into her life. We met in the same apartment, fighting the same drug dealers. She saved my life and tried to hook up with me. She saw the potential in me, and told me so in my room. It was all a sad mistake. In the end, I brought Red Mist into their safehouse, got Big Daddy captured and nearly had Mindy killed.

I destroyed Mindy's life. Her father was killed, and in a way, so was Mindy. She was never the same after that. As if it wasn't enough, I dragged her into this superhero bullshit with the Demoness and she was the one who ended up paying the price- worse still, I had no idea what the price was. It could be death, it could be anything to do with a sadistic monster who came in the form of a twelve year old. Had I known any less, Demoness may well be Satan in disguise.

"Once a loser, always a loser." As she realised I wasn't talking, she went on to flesh out my innermost demons. The next thing I noticed, she was tightening her grip on the handle of her sword. I was immobilised not just because of my slash wounds, but also because of the old wounds inside she had torn open, "Just an idiot in a giant, blue condom."

"Let me end your suffering..." Raising her sword overhead, she was prepared to execute me. I was stricken with grief and pain, I wasn't able to do anything but watch. In a way, deep down, I didn't want to move, "Don't worry, I'll make sure your friends join you too..." With the widest, most twisted Cheshire cat smile I had ever seen, she swung her sword down- I could feel the air beneath the blade cutting into my skin.

How does it feel like to die? How does it feel like to lose a head? There was only one way to find out- going under the blade, Demoness' blade. I've heard stories of Near Death Experiences. Some say they saw bright, white light. Others saw only darkness. Some saw tunnels. Mine had a loud bang, and there was no light nor darkness. Except, I didn't die. There were gunshots, a bang coming in the direction of the Grandmaster. Instinctively, I turned my head to look.

In Aldan's shaking hand was a pistol- something I thought Aldan was entirely incapable of touching. It was taken from the corpse of a dead mob bodyguard. Its barrel was smoking from having been used. Realising that my head was still stuck on my shoulders, I turned my head back to look at Demoness- she was on the floor, her hands clutching her chest, her drastically shortened sword by her side, discarded. I was still on the ground, still immobile despite the better prospects, but I was shocked that Aldan would shoot his own daughter even when he threatened to kill me should I ever come close to murder his little girl.

"Dave! You're far better than that!" Grandmaster tried to repair what damage his daughter had done, not that he's doing any wonders- I was still as suicidal as ever. Realising that I wasn't responding at all like a stone wall, he went on, as hard as it was, each word harder to release than the next, "Give... Give up now, Mindy will surely... perish... Wha-what of your... f-friends... and... family..?" Within the last second, he had hit the right chord- what he said was the truth. Should I give in now, I would die, and then Mindy would follow. Everyone whom we left behind won't be far behind. Before I could thank him, the real-life Gondor swordsman became still. He was dead, another soul taken away by a vigilante gone nuts.

Demoness flipped herself back on her feet. She was apparently unheard- seeing how professional an assassin she was, it wasn't surprising that she was protected from head to toe. The albino had another weapon under her sleeves- some kind of sickle and dagger tied together with ropes; one of those cool eastern ninja tools of death, except it won't be cool if I was connected to it.

Just when all hope was lost, I became inspired. Aldan may had died, but it wasn't for nothing- he had inspired me, in life and even in death. Before she could do anything I was on my knees, my only stick left in hand. The killer went for a swipe, but it went over my head as I ducked. Like a reflex, I swung my baton against her just above the waist. I was even able to surprise myself when she stumbled in that direction.

'That's it' I thought, 'this is my ticket out. This is everyone's ticket out.' I was encouraged, and I swung my baton against her again. This time it landed just below her left armpit. I could hear a crack- it was either my weapon or her rib, "That was for Michael!" There was only one way to find out.

Like some fighter in a weird martial arts video game, I was doing a combo- I went for another swipe in the opposite direction, winding myself up fully, "And that was for Aldan!"

Demoness could not react at all before the stick connected with the side of her head and, as if we were in some Chinese movie, she spun in mid-air from the force I exerted on her before landing on the hard ground, finally floored, "That- that was for Mindy!"

The worry I had for Mindy, the same that overcame me when I found her half-dead under Frank D'Amico, was overpowering me- I knew I had to act fast, force her to tell me where my Godsister was. Close by was one of those beretta-type pistols one of the goons had. Picking it up, I hurriedly knelt down over the sadistic little albino and, being a little more savage than I could ever expect myself to be against a girl, I grabbed her by the uniform and brought her bloody face close to mine, with the barrel of the pistol I took pressed against the bottom of her lower jaw, "Where the fuck is Mindy! Tell me!"

My only reply was a pained gurgle of a laughter as blood was spewing out from my little nemesis' mouth. Somehow, despite all the harm she had done, I felt guilty for what I had done. Reasoning with myself, I told myself that it was for the best. Other than that, the Demoness was still playing with me, "She's dying..." Another bout of pained cackle. It was more than what I could take, so I pistol whipped her. Admittedly, by this point, there was more than one monster on the roof that night. I had to strike her twice, as she was still smiling crookedly after the first whack with the gun.

"Where is she! Fucking tell me right now!" I screamed as I pressed the barrel of the pistol into her left temple hard. I was out of control, I just needed my dearest friend back safe. Saving the city, along with those who could have been this supervillain's victim... It didn't matter anymore- all that seemed important became only Mindy. Everyone else was either dead or out of my mind.

"She's dying..." The Demoness repeated weakly, remaining defiant even when she was coughing so much blood out due to my beating. Her reply drove me insane. I threw the gun away and started strangling her with both my hands. Her own gloved hands wrapped around my wrists in a vain attempt to wrestle me away, but it was useless. My grip grew harder and harder, tighter and tighter. Her blood was rolling down her white cheeks and chin, and onto my hand- it was quite a metaphor for the sin I must commit to save the world (or at least New York) and Mindy.

My conscience was nagging at me to stop, yet I went on strangling her- I was just too furious, furious and frustrated at how I was so close to saving Mindy, yet it was far away. Needless to say, it wasn't the most admirable thing I've ever done, and it wasn't the wisest either.


	21. Chapter 21: Face Off Part 2

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 21: Face Off Part 2**

The thought that time was running out was egging me on. What Nevaeh said didn't help at all, that Mindy was somewhere dying even as I was choking my nemesis, slowly taking her breath away. I was smarter than that, but out of control. You know what they say: 'Getting angry cuts your IQ down by half'.

Just before she was really about to die, what with her eyes rolling up and her struggling weakening, I released my grip and resolved to dragging her to the wall covering the stairs. I was way out of control. Looking back at my deeds, I couldn't believe it was all me. It's not exactly normal and mainstream that you'd associate hardcore violence with a geeky (increasingly), meek high school kid.

I started punching her in the guts, and everytime she slid back down, I held her up and slammed her against the wall. I had forgotten that she was just twelve. It took several bitch slaps and punches in the face down the line before I remembered where my head was and regained my composure.

Her mask was torn and coming off. Like every good super-person, she tried to protect her identity as if her life depended on it. I felt that she didn't deserve that sort of dignity. She was holding the black strip that meant the difference between Batman and Bruce, so I tried to force her hands off her face, and when that didn't work, I threw her to the ground, as if it was some twisted Mexican wrestling match where the victor attempts to unmask the defeated one.

I wasn't Kick-Ass anymore. I didn't know who I was anymore as I started giving her a few hard kicks to weaken her, when my incredible hulk side took over again. By throwing her off her feet I must have shocked her, and immediately, I was able to tear her mask off.

I couldn't even begin to describe what was underneath. Poetic revelation would be a good place to start. Guilt. Shock. An instant lesson on patience and self-restraint. That torn, battle-worn black strip of fabric was only part of her real complete mask. Her face, or what appeared to be her face was a canvas for the rest of it.

It was what my dream meant. Her pale skin wasn't pale after all. It was just waterproof woman's make-up powder or some such, the sort that I am totally an idiot of owing to my 'superpower' of being invisible to girls. Her eyes weren't red anymore, or at least one of them weren't anymore. She was wearing coloured lenses.

Demoness was Mindy.


	22. Chapter 22: Shadow and Vengeance

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 22: Shadow and Vengeance**

It was like finding out that the Batman was the Joker all along, or that Peter Parker was an autistic boy who imagined being Spiderman in the end. I was stunned- my mind was on a permanent standstill when I stared into the unfamiliar eyes of the same person I was trying to save, "Mindy?" The only thing I could find myself doing was to just stand there and stare into her hostile eyes and think on the possibility that it couldn't be her, as she returned that stare.

"Mindy... Why?" My mind was still a total blank- I simply could not accept what was happening, and my superhero experience has taught me not to deny the truth, especially ever since my previous few close brushes with the Grim Reaper. The only train of thought chugging through my head was the question, 'Why?' The answer was obvious though, anyone who knew about our history together could easily say that Mindy had not forgiven me at all for her father's death. Yet, she could have killed me so many times before...

"I'm not Mindy." My Godsister snarled at me as she was wiping the blood off her face. Her wig was also starting to loosen, so she took it off as well, revealing the same blonde hair that she was born with. She was wearing a wig of long, flowing white hair all along- I should have known better.

"Mindy, stop it! I know it's you!" I couldn't help but to snap back at her, "Stop playing games with me! It's over!" I was given another round of disturbing laughter in return- it was even more terrifying that it came from Mindy when her cover was blown. 'Why?', the question was still stuck in my head, 'Why is she doing this?'

"Oh, but I'm not Mindy." Mindy repeated herself, and I could see the determination in her face. I knew Mindy well enough to know that she meant it- though to tell you the truth, I doubt I've seen her act to trick her enemies. She seemed strangely calm and collected, as though her injuries had all just disappeared.

"Who else could you be, Mindy?" All of a sudden, a surge of sadness overcame me. It didn't help that the fact that I had beaten her up unknowingly was still freshly imprinted in my head. 'Was this the way she had decided to punish me for the mistakes I've made in the past?' I thought as I knelt down, just so I could level my eyes to hers. Perhaps the reason why I did so was to let her see the tears that were welling up in my eyes, so that she would just stop denying her identity.

"I'm not Mindy." She said repeated herself again, as resolute as ever. It just upsets me even more.

"Mindy... I'm sorry for your father..." I started leaning closer towards her. I wanted to hug her so much, to just end it all like this and carry her back home. If anything, it was partly my fault- I helped to kill her only parent, her father, no matter how unintentional it was. Putting my hand on one of her cheeks, I pulled her towards me, and gave her that hug that I felt I owed her an infinite number of times, "Let's just end this right here, alright?"

Mindy seemed to sink into me. She didn't resist- though she seemed more still and silent than normal. At least, until she pushed me away and gave me a hard kick in the face. Even though that kick landed on my helmet, it was still strong enough to knock me silly. As I was seeing white the second time round, I could hear her moaning slightly in pain as she got up and ran off- I could hear her footsteps, "Mindy! Come back!"

Cradling her right arm, which was broken, I noticed, when I kicked her to weaken her just so I could unmask her, she was running away towards the stairs that lead to the storey below. I took off after her, and I was easily able to catch up with her unsurprisingly- She was limping quite badly and if I remember correctly, I broke one or several of her ribs. It broke my heart to see her that way, and it was even worse owing to the fact that I was the one who did all that.

Within seconds, I caught up with her before she could make a turn and disappear into the stairs and pulled her by her cape. Like a Gecko trying to escape, she loosened it and allowed it to come off as I pulled it. As a last resort, I took a lunge and grabbed her by the ankle, which surprisingly worked, considering how clumsy I was.

The wayward girl fell to the ground after I did. Crawling up to her, I tried to restrain her only to be bitten by her in the right arm- which made me remember the metal fangs fitted into her mouth- the fangs dug deep into my flesh, the excruciating, piercing pain forcing me to let go. As if I hadn't bled enough, more blood was seeping from my arm as I tried applying pressure to keep my red fluid in- it doesn't take a genius to know how to control bleeding.

Looking in the direction of Mindy, I realised that she had sooner crawled away as I was groaning away at my injured arm, reaching out to something on the ground which was just at the mouth of the staircase. Something brown and dark grey, something that could only mean trouble to me. Ignoring my arm, I rushed at her, but before I could stop her from seizing the object, she grabbed it and turned around, training it at me; it was a saw-off shotgun, taken from the corpse of a dead bodyguard. I froze, knowing that Mindy in the state of denial was nothing like a laughing matter.

"Mindy..." My voice was hushed into a whisper as I stared down the barrel of her salvaged shotgun. Mindy got up unsteadily, owing to her injuries, her gun always pointing at me without respite. At one point she yelped in pain as she was putting too much pressure on her right arm by holding the shotgun one-handed as she supported herself up with her other hand, "Don't..." Her gun was shaking violently, lacking the strength to carry it owing again to her broken arm, as she paused for a second, as if in contemplation- I had no idea what was going through her head.

"I'm not Mindy." Again, she denied- I really had no idea what was going through her head, but then again, I couldn't blame her. Who would want to be Mindy after all I did to her?

"Then who are you?" I decided to play along- it was the only way I could stay alive longer. What else could I do to avoid getting my head blown up?

"I... I don't know." She was starting to sound like a nutcase from Arkham Asylum, either that, or a real life super-sane person, "I'm her shadow, I guess." Her grip on the shotgun relaxed, and she dropped it from her eye level to hip level. My last-ditch method of staying alive worked; I just had to keep her talking.

"What do you mean?" At the same time, I needed to find out more, about what Mindy was doing in that new get-up of hers, about what she was doing killing everyone in New York, why she wanted to kill me, about why the fuck did she tried to kill Marcus, her beloved stepfather. Looking back, I thought I knew exactly who she was, inside out, but with all those crazy shit going on for the past week, she became a complete stranger, "Shadow?"

"I... I'm not Mindy, and yet I'm her, in a sense." Mindy, or her shadow, explained. Her right arm was still trembling, and so was the barrel of her gun. I could feel drops of rain falling from the sky. It was only now that I realised it was drizzling all along. I need to keep her talking, not just for the sake of living, "I came into this world months ago. I came here to do what she can't."

"What, to kill me? To kill your- her only family left?" Most of what was in my head became anger- How could she do this to so many? How could she do this to me, to herself? To our dear friend in the force, Marc?

"No, or rather, not just that. I'm here to make sure her parents didn't die in vain." She went on to explain, it sounds almost like-

"Vengeance?" It was obviously something dark. If anything, justice was already served when Frank D'Amico went down like 3 months ago. Anything more than that was either die-hard heroism or the opposite of that.

"Vengeance." Mindy's shadow nodded in agreement as she went on to explain, "I knew exactly what she wanted. Vengeance. She was just too weak to pursue it herself."

"So you think killing everyone's going to solve everything?" Vengeance was never really my thing, just a flicker of thought in my superhero fantasy. It was about as close as the staple of every fictional comic book I could get my hands on. I knew very well anyway why vengeance was just plain wrong.

"No, but killing everyone who caused Mindy's father's death would." If Mindy really wasn't herself, if this shadow was real and not a Mindy creation, then she must be really obsessed with revenge- The way she talked and what she had done had really got me thinking that it was the only thing she was ever concerned about.

"What, and that includes all those good cops down there? What about me? What about my friends and Marcus?"

"They were in my way. I can't afford to get distracted now, can I? Nothing wrong with that, is there?" Mindy's shadow was quite fucked-up alright, "As for you, you're one of them." No point denying that I wasn't- that was one part I could agree with. She raised her shotgun to chest level, like some soldier in a firing squad, and I was the one to be executed.

So it all came down to this, where there wasn't a point to struggle anymore. There was no point dodging, running, nor talking- I had already found out everything I needed to know to make sense of what was going on, that Mindy was fucked-up in the head. The only regret I had, or the only one I could think of, was that I wasn't good enough to put that pain inside of her to rest before it all happened.

I shut my eyes tight in anticipation of the inevitable. If I had to die, I wouldn't want to die seeing the pellets from a shotgun shell travel towards me at a speed faster than sound. I wouldn't want to see my guts flying all over the place and my blood painting the floor. A second passed, two. A few seconds passed, and yet nothing. The wait was killing me if Mindy wasn't. Feeling brave enough, I opened one eye, then the other.

Mindy was gritting her teeth, her eyes locked on her shotgun in intense concentration. Her shotgun was shaking violently. Her trigger finger was halfway from fully pulling the trigger that would send me upstairs. It was as if she was trying very hard not to.

"Let go!" She cried as she was still struggling in this state- it was as if there was a world war in her mind and who was that she was speaking to? "Let go now!" Deep down inside of her, I knew she couldn't do it- but it was all happening in a way I had never anticipated. What the fuck was wrong with her?

It was my chance to avoid a rather sad, sad ending to my saga. I launched myself at her, knocking her down with me. Simultaneously, her saw-off shotgun went off, but thankfully not with me behind the barrel. Seizing her shotgun with one hand, I took from my utility belt my taser, "I'm sorry."

With that, I pressed the device against chest and pressed the button, but I had clearly forgotten how much contact I was having with her, and how heavy the rain was becoming. We were both getting shocked, the effect stronger because of the water. I couldn't stop- the electricity was forcing my fingers to tighten. It was a full fifteen seconds before I could see smoke billowing out of my taser, and another few long seconds before it stopped working. By the time it did, the only thing I could see was darkness...


	23. Chapter 23: Death by Embolism

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 23: Death by Embolism**

There was a certain unnatural whiteness as I opened my eyes. They felt as dry as the Sahara when I did. All I could see was nothing- for a second there i thought I was blind due to the freak electrical accident I had, but thank God I did not have to live with that fear and apprehension for long.

I was expecting the same scene I had seen just before I was knocked out, but I was somewhere else, somewhere different. Somewhere that wasn't so wet, so full of dead men and discarded guns.

A white shroud of a blanket was covering the lower half of my body and below my head was a similarly hued pillow and bed. The rest of the room were shades of beige, brown and black. It felt like paradise especially after what I've been through, peaceful and quiet.

For another second there, I thought I was in heaven, until I shifted my head to the left to realise that I was on IV drip. Angels and rescued souls do not need IV drips, and neither would bandages have any use in heaven either.

Like waking up from a long night of comic mania, it all gushed back into my mind- the pain all over my body. Without knowing it in the fight I had with Mindy, I was bruised all over, cut everywhere. The worse were the deep gashes in my chest and stomach. Despite the thick bandages covering them, I could still feel the cold air rushing through the deep crevices in my skin. The exposed nerve endings were crying out to me- I felt like fainting all over again. My only way to fight that urge was to remember that those gashes should have been stitched up by now- the eerie feeling I had revolving around those injuries were just phantom aftershocks, I reasoned.

It wasn't even the worse part. I started remembering- right from the first day this shit started boiling all the way down to what seemed like moments ago. All the finest details were there. The humiliation and defeat at the hands of Demoness, my chance meeting with Grandmaster that ended in disaster with Marcus getting all shot up- whether he was still alive was an open question, a very good one at that.

I remember the four of us meeting up- Me, Mindy, Aldan and Michael, and I certainly remember how only the two of us made it out. If I could relive the entire last week, would I be able to recall the fight I had moments ago? Certainly. I remembered fighting Demoness, only to discover that Mindy was her, only to discover that I've done more harm than I had ever imagined to regret, that the harm I did was irreversible, and all this was not just towards my dear Mindy.

In other words, not only had I single-handedly killed Big-Daddy, mind-fucked Mindy to detour her from being a good superhero to an even better arch-villain, but I had also caused the death of those dozens of people who died the past few days under Demoness or Mindy's reign of terror.

Just when I thought I would be alone for a few hours, more than enough time for me to weep without being seen, a certain person knocked on the door to my ward and entered. Surprised, I quickly swallowed up my self-pity and sadness to present a more prideful, tougher survivor's front. It was a little too much to swallow however that I could only do it halfway. A few tears had escaped my grasp on manhood.

"Dave, are you well?" I recognised that voice, that strong, elderly and wise baritone. I could only muster up enough energy and enthusiasm to say a weak 'hey'. The only thing keeping me from going to sleep or sinking back into unconsciousness out of despair was my concern for the traumatised Mindy.

"Where's Mindy?" I had to ask. New York aside, everything I've done so far was all in the name of saving her.

"Let us not venture into that first..." The Grandmaster replied. I became distraught and angry at him- he should have known how much Mindy means to me, either that, or maybe he knew it too well.

"Tell me!" Where I found the energy to yell at a 50 plus year old man who was probably ten times as wise and powerful was way beyond me, but then again, it was a miracle that I even survived this long, and it was a bigger mystery how I managed to subdue Demoness- or Mindy, my Godsister, albeit by frying my hair off at the same time.

"Dave..." I could see all kinds of emotions raging through his mind. It wasn't very obvious, but then again I knew, as people grew older they learn better how to hide their raw feelings.

"Fuck it! Just tell me!" Something was up, I knew it. It was just a matter of what. From the severity of his mood, I could tell it was something huge.

"Mindy, she..." Different ideas were presenting themselves to me, the same way as last time when I tried writing comic books and like that time, all those ideas were bad. She could have gone into a coma because of me- I know what electricity could do. She could be cold and dead, "The girl was mentally unsound... I had sent her to a mental institution."

I wasn't able to decide whether it was good thing or a bad thing at this point. Was it better if she was an unforgiving, cold-blooded little mass murderer? Or was it preferable that she was a crackpot all along?

"All will be well, I had made sure she was put under the care of an old friend." In my mind, I was thinking, 'does it matter?' I've heard about mental cases- they take a very long, long, long time to recover, what more for Mindy who had some fucked up short-circuits in her brain that convinced her to kill dozens upon dozens indiscriminately, "He'll take care of her, you have my oath."

"Wait, but she's badly injured and- " And then, I remembered how much I had hurt her in our last dance in the rain. A broken rib or a few, a broken right arm, probably a fractured leg, plenty of bruises...

"Dave, it has been three days before you came to." I was shocked but at the same time there's no surprise. I was exhausted, badly beaten and finally shocked half to death by my own stupidity, "Mindy was given the necessary attention before she was sent to the institution."

"How is she?" I had to know, yet the more I understand, the more I get worried and anxious, the more I would blame myself and think of emptying that bag of colourless shit and replacing it with air for pumping into my vein. Death by embolism, was that the right medical term? But then again on second thought, it seemed too painful a way to go, so I banished that thought away immediately, not that I would really entertain suicide.

'Her body will heal, but her soul... My friend, Doctor Paul's diagnosis and prognosis are both unfortunately poor." My stomach was twisting at the thought of it. Mindy was fine to me just a week ago, even a day ago, before she was 'kidnapped'.

"How bad is it?" She seemed sane whenever she was around me, or at least just shaken and recovering from having lost her real father. How could this be? How could this be? How on Earth, Earth-2, Earth-3 and the planet Krypton and X could this be, I kept asking myself.

"The doctor- he said had had seen nothing like it, yet he is a renown practicing psychiatrist for over 30 years." The Grandmaster went on as I stared blankly at him- I was staring at something else, at a Mindy I imagined in my head to be quite insane, having mutilated herself beyond recognition, having easily fought her way out of her strait-jacket, "I had seen shellshocked, traumatised soldiers from many foreign wars driven mad by the horrors they had seen and experienced, he said. The good doctor, you could say he introduced me to my craft- he said Mindy is more mentally damaged than every one of those patriots put together."

Death by embolism suddenly seemed like a very good idea.


	24. Chapter 24: Lost

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 24: Lost**

The sky was weeping tears upon the sight of such pain and misery to come. It was dark; It was night, and blood has been spilt. Aldan was lying on the ground, his stomach screaming in pain more so than the water that falls from the sky. Blood was flowing out more so than the water gushing through the drains of the rooftop floor.

He was in intense pain, his consciousness wavering, his soul aching to depart yet it was not meant to be. He was still far from dead. His eyes flickered open and close, and in between the tides of dark unconsciousness, he witnessed his good friend, Dave, or as many named him as such, 'Kick-Ass', steadily losing ground in his fight against the Demoness.

His consciousness wavers, and to this mind he was given a slideshow of Dave slowly dying- It was beyond something he could easily accept lying down, a sheep seeing its kin to the slaughter. With all his might, despite his screaming stomach, seeing a pistol he reached out for the weapon.

It was a disgrace to Aldan, to touch a gun. As a dedicated swordsman and headmaster of an academy of some prestige, it was a great dishonour for him to use a firearm in battle, and this time he had to rely on the cowardly instrument. Time was running out; he could die any moment now or just fall unconscious anytime soon. All he knew was that he will only allow it to happen only after he had lent his last aid to a friend.

Nevaeh was his daughter. Although they had never really known each other there was still a sense of fatherhood in him. On the other side of his mind however, he knew that she could not be controlled in any way, nor reasoned with, and neither was there any way to secure her given the situation. Should he give her a leeway to kill a friend and everyone else she was targeting, it would do no one any good. Her daughter would still be killed sooner or later along with many other souls. Aldan would have to make the ultimate sacrifice, for his friends Dave and Mindy, and for the city he grew up in; ultimately for his daughter- he knew that heaven was waiting for her, as it was not her fault that she killed so many.

With his decision made in an hour of an instant and his heart dead in that same instant hour he took an aim and fired the pistol- despite his revulsion to firearms he was still accurate enough to do what he must. Just before Demoness was able to execute Kick-Ass, he fired on her only Eastern sword left, breaking the long blade from the middle. A second shot was aimed directly at his homicidal daughter, who fell to her knees clutching her chest.

"Dave! You're far better than that!" The Grandmaster shouted his last words of encouragement- to physically help was one thing. A man could never fight on muscle alone, that much he knew. Nevaeh had mentally weakened his friend as well, and he intends to make sure his sacrificing of his daughter's well-being had counted, "Give... Give up now, Mindy will surely... perish... Wha-what of your... f-friends... and... family..?" Before he could watch his daughter perish he soon blacked out; His suffering consisting of bodily harm completed by heartbreak.

"That-" And indeterminate amount of time had passed when the medieval swordsman heard his friend crying in rage. With his consciousness fragile, he was in between the dream world and reality, "For Michael!"

"Was-" In this state he could barely think or feel at all; he was numb both in body and mind from the knife in his chest and the amount of blood he was losing. All he knew, and cared to know was that it was Dave's turn giving battlecries and taunts. It could only mean a turnaround of events, "For Mindy!"

"Where the... Tell..!" In between listening to the shouting and turning over to observe, there were momentary lapses in his wakefulness, but what he saw was painful to behold. Kick-Ass was starting to get very physical with his daughter. He was pointing a gun to her lower jaw.

"Dying..." He could hear from his daughter's bloodied lips. Her voice sounded weak and pained. He wanted to move in to regulate the interrogation but he could not move at all. With a knife to his chest and a slash wound the width of his stomach he was effectively immobile. He could feel the pain when Kick-Ass pistol-whipped Demoness.

"... Is she! ... Tell me right..!" After threatening to shoot her again, Kick-Ass went right to choking his daughter. He had to act soon, if he wanted things to go the right way. In between each moment of void, he tightened his grip on the hilt of Nevaeh's combat knife and gave it a tug. Each pull threatened to send him straight off to high heaven.

"She's dying..." If only his daughter was a little more sane than she was. Halfway out of his chest, the knife wound sparked intense pain. More time had passed than normal after he blacked out from it- he knew, as his friend and child had changed location from close to him to the shelter housing the stairway from which they entered the rooftop of the D'Amico headquarters. Kick-Ass was going out of control- he was starting to punch her and slam her small frame against the wall. They were too far to listen in on, and his vision had become discoloured and blurry, but that much he could tell; that there was not much time left.

Giving the hardest pull he could muster given the circumstances, he took out the knife from his chest in one swift motion- a stream of blood followed the blade as it flew away from him. Aldan knew he would not die from it, as he could breathe properly still despite the pain; the knife had missed his lungs. His armour had probably made it harder for Nevaeh to aim at his organs. Still, flesh was still flesh, and this time, this pull sent him halfway to high heaven as it took him much longer to waken from it.

"Let go!" He could barely hear the muffled scream from Demoness- he had to act fast, "Let go now!" Forcing himself on his feet, he witnessed Kick-Ass tackling Demoness and giving him a shock from his Taser, which ended up electrifying both persons due to the rain and how they were in full contact of each other. By the time he came over hunched, clutching his wounds, the taser had already died, and in aiding his incapacitated friend and daughter, he was treated to both relief and anguish.

Demoness was Mindy. It meant a myriad of consequences. His daughter could be anywhere, it meant- she could be dead or alive, sickly or healthy, happy or miserable, he will never know. It meant he had gone off track for days, and that he had to start his search for his daughter all over again.

It meant Mindy was the one mortally wounded, in addition to Dave Lizewski. Dave would be saddened to know that he had raised his fist against his own beloved friend. He would lose two friends from death, if not from mental anguish- Mindy was in danger of both ends, if not already gone from the latter.

With all his might, after binding his wounds with pieces of his cloak, Aldan carried them both down, boarding a service elevator that took them to the back door of the skyscraper. The police were there as well, some killed from firefights raging between D'Amico's men and them, the remaining ones allowing them to pass on their merit as masked crime-fighters. A distance away from the crime scene in some alley, he reported to the police as victims of a theft case turned violent and they were soon carried away by an ambulance to the nearest hospital.

That was what he could remember from the incident, yet all his mind was focused on was Demoness' face- It was Nevaeh's, yet it was Mindy's. He remembered everything as they were when he turned over her face. Some of the paleness of her skin had faded; it mean her pale skin was fake- she was putting on some kind of disguise. One of her eyes had a a greenish, greyish hue, or black, he couldn't tell from the dim lights, and the other was red. It meant she was wearing lenses all along. Her hair had gained some colour, turning from white to pale yellow. She was wearing a wig.

Nevaeh's features had faded away into Mindy's. It meant his daughter was nowhere to be found. Upset, he remained quieted as he was ferried back to his hotel by a taxi. After spending days in the hospital, arranging for Mindy to be sent for special treatment, visiting Dave and forcing his way out of the hospital he had decided to go back to searching for the only family he had left.


	25. Chapter 25: A Veteran of many Wars

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 25: A Veteran of many Wars**

**3 weeks later...**

The heavy wooden doors of the mental institution opened and a rather wizen old man greeted me on the doorsteps of the building. I was all alone. I couldn't get anyone else to come with me- Aldan was nowhere to be found; he was most likely busy looking all over the state for his daughter. My father preferred not to get too involved with my superhero adventures, choosing a more supportive role along the lines of Batman's butler or the Punisher's armourer. Marcus, my friend in the force, couldn't even get out of bed yet. My buddies... Well, I hadn't let them in on my secret yet.

Ushering me into the marbled halls of the reception area, he took me across the hall to a rather kindly woman dressed in nurse's attire. From within a drawer of her large desk, she pulled out a card and gave it to me after I booked myself in. On writing my information down, I realised my hands were shaking- I didn't know what to expect. The old man and nurse I met had nothing to do with Mindy, and everyone was dead silent- as if in denial of their occupation involving keeping and treating headcases.

I had yet to meet Dr. Paul yet, Aldan's friend who was in charge of curing Mindy of her illnesses, not that I had any idea what happened in her mind. I just knew, it had to be something about the size of the World Eater for her to snap considering her discipline, considering how she mowed down a huge number of people the news and police have yet to finalise. I didn't know at all what to expect, what I'll see, whether the Mindy I knew was still there or if what I would find was only the shell of her former self.

After going through with all the security crap, the same old man in white lead me through a few corridors flanked by offices, belonging presumably to the many psychiatrists working in this secluded mental hospital. Most of them were closed and likely locked, and I could hear faint noises coming from inside, of some murmurs and strange ramblings. Some had animalistic screams, others inhuman mumblings and shouting. It sure didn't help with my cold sweat and sweaty palm. My still-recovering wounds were starting to hurt again from the thought that one of those animal screams I heard could be Mindy's.

I felt stupid for wearing my best into the hospital. Chances were, she wouldn't be able to appreciate my latest brand clothes and basketball shoes. She'd just appreciate me coming over so that she could strangle me with a stolen nightstick. Would she even be able to recognise me? So many questions were dying to be answered inside, yet the building was conspiring against me, it was taking forever for me to reach my destination, wherever it was in the huge mental institution.

After passing through an area with a lower security level, one of those for some of the less violent patients to do whatever they want even if it means just sitting in a corner of the room on a moth-eaten sofa mumbling mumbo-jumbo to himself, I was becoming a nervous wreck. 'Where is she?' The thought kept rewinding in my head. I was hoping she'd be in an area like this, just watching a television show, keeping to herself like some emo kid, but my luck's spent on all those fights with Mindy and D'Amico's thugs- she was not anywhere in those areas I passed.

A short while later I and my guide reached a metallic door, which was where he decided to leave me, "Senior Psychiatrist Paul Truman's inside. I'll be on my way now." An unnerving gloom hangs over the grey steel door as he left- I was unsure if it was real or imagined, the aura of darkness belching from the room I was about to enter. There was only one way to find out. You can't enjoy the thrill of a comic book if you don't turn the page, anyways...

I opened the heavy door, and realised the next room was a windowless, dark void perfect for meditation, with a single table in the middle and just two chairs. There were bookcases lining the walls, and a television on the opposite side of where I was standing. The doctor was sitting on one of the chairs, reading a book. He was in his 50s, with greying hair but was cleanly shaven. He appears quite brawny so he was out of the same stereotype of shrinks as the Scarecrow or typical science guy for that matter. With a pair of rectangular silver spectacles and brown suit he was a complete psychiatrist, "Ah, yes, I've been expecting you, please do have a sit." He stood up as I walked in, extending his arm for a handshake. I took it and forced a smile- it was hard to smile these days what with Mindy's fate an open question.

"I'm Dave Lizewski, Mindy's closest friend, god-brother and..." I hadn't thought about what to add after 'friend'. After all the shit that had happened, I figured I was more than just a friend. The word took a long time to surface, but when it did, it didn't come in my voice.

"Boyfriend?" The doctor speculated. He seemed almost casual the way he said it, as if it was normal for kids to date suitors twice their age before puberty. I was stunned, of all the things he could guess...

"W-what? No!" It was revolting for him to even suggest it; I could feel it in my mouth.

"Oh, good, I was just testing you." With that, he flashed a smile and released his handshake. It was either a very good idea for a test or a joke. It could be a little of both, "That's one less paedophilia case to worry about, good for Mindy too, you were saying?"

"I'm also her guardian for now, I guess." I was still too stunned at first to speak, but I got over it. Being Kick-Ass had taught me a few things about recovering from stuns, all kinds of it.

"Great, good, I know, let's get down to the patient now, shall we?" The doctor gestured for me to sit, and I did when he sat down as well. Between us were a few files and a remote controller for the television. They have the power to either drive me up the wall or bring me back to life again. I had the urge to just walk away and never find out anything about Mindy's mental health, but I owe it to her, to stay with her throughout high and low, especially after what I did, after what had happened as a result. I was her friend, her brother, and now guardian, as I said. Keeping quiet, I waited with a million butterflies and moths fluttering about in my stomach. Taking the top-most file, the doctor opened it, "Patient, Miss Mindy Macready, born; year 2000, April 16th, age; 10, occupation- 5th grade student. Biological parents are Damon and Susanna Macready. Legal guardian is Marcus Williams, now temporarily you. Are all the details in order?"

"Yeah..." My mouth was beginning to dry up. I couldn't bear to listen to what's next, yet I wanted so much to.

"Good, excellent, Dave, are you ready for what I am about to tell?" He asked as he leaned in closer to me. It was as if the doctor read my mind- I could've sworn he was a real telepath just from the way he was looking at me, reading my eyes and face. I guess he was a senior psychiatrist for a reason, "Mindy needs a strong guardian you know..."

"Yes... I know..." No, I wasn't ready. When was I ever ready for anything? The only way I ever get things moving was just to dive into the water, and hope that I could find a pearl or two in the murky underwater mud I was about to grope around for hope.

"Well, alright, sure, patient Mindy Macready..." After pronouncing her name in a very precise and British accent that befits his style, he started flipping through a clipboard he had with him. As the papers flapped and flew, my nervousness exploded. As if sensing that explosion, the doctor doubled his pace and sure enough, he finally stopped flipping, having turned to the notes he needed.

"Patient Mindy Macready displays numerous symptoms of clinical depression, post-traumatic stress disorder, dissociative identity disorder, obsessive-compulsive disorder and clinical psychosis... Do you understand?" Pausing, the doctor checked with me if I could catch his drift. I could, barely, at least until the part about depression. The rest were like some super-secret alien language to me.

"I- I can't..." I didn't really have to answer it- His question had easily become rhetorical. I could barely, if at all understand, but I didn't have to understand to know that, in other words, Mindy was seriously screwed in the head. I just need to know how screwed up she was and in what way. What I uttered wasn't to express that I couldn't understand- I was in disbelief, I was fully and utterly shocked, saddened.

"No?" Shaking his head, the doctor went on to explain in simpler, layman's terms, "Alright, very well, what I am trying to say was that Miss Mindy Macready... She is a very, very badly damaged little child. Due to certain very stressful and strong stimuli in the past of which I will elaborate later, she has become very depressed, very disconnected, and in coping, or the lack of it, she has taken on no less than at least 2 different personalities, became violent and incoherent... Among other things..."

I could only shake my head in agreement. It took my breath away, for a minute there I thought my lungs had suddenly stopped. It screwed the barely perfect train of thought I had laid in my head, screwed it up about as much as how bad Mindy was in the head. I was no less than horrified when I heard Mindy had taken on no less than 2 different personalities. It was something way out of my reality, something I never thought could happen. It felt as if I had entered the Twilight Zone, "She has attacked the staff on numerous occasions and performed self-mutilation as well, so we would have to keep her under heavy sedation and restraint."

"Will she come back?" My voice was reduced to a croak as I comprehended too well what was going on with Mindy. I couldn't even think properly, much less to speak properly.

"It would be a long and bumpy ride, I'm afraid. Mr. Lizewski, I hope you know why you're here, however, do you?" Dr. Paul replied as he took the remote controller in his hands, his fingers playing with the colourful rubber buttons as though he was itching to switch on the television and enjoy some episode of Dr. House with a bag of popcorn.

"I just know that I'm... I'm here to see her, you know, understand what's... What's going on with her, you know." I struggled to come to grips with my senses- there was no good in being a nervous wreck if I was going to be there for a good friend. The doctor was kind enough to listen patiently, despite my stammering- Which I found irritating even to myself. Taking a deep breath and calming my thoughts, picturing it as an uneventful summer sea rather than a stormy ocean, I went on and said in a more confident and resolute tone, "I just want to take care of her the way she took care of me. I wanna see her if that's possible."

"Hmm, well, excellent. I can see that you're serious about being her guardian and god-brother, good, good but I'm afraid I cannot allow you to see her." The psychiatrist's attitude was far more confident and resolute than mine. It works well enough for me not to ask twice to see Mindy. He had his reasons, I knew- If Mindy was still nuts beyond redemption, she'd still want to kill me, "Aldan, my brother-in-arms and your friend, has explained everything to me, yes, everything. The superhero underworld, how you people trumped the D'Amico empire..." At first, I was apprehensive about him knowing about my exploits, but then again, look at it this way- Aldan was probably the most wisest man I know, and he's on my side. Anyone who's a friend of his was a friend of mine.

"Do not worry yourself, you can trust me." Sensing my doubts, he assured me with his guarantee, not that I needed it, "Now, back to patient Mindy Macready... Yes, you're here to support Mindy, learn about her condition, and do your duty. But you're also here to assist me in treating her many mental wounds."


	26. Chapter 26: Two girls, a closure

**The Spiralling**

**Chapter 26: Two girls, a closure**

After that he went on to show me videos of Mindy's therapy sessions that had been going on for the past 3 weeks. For the first few days she was utterly vicious, rivalling anything I've seen on the comic strip even. It was what the doctor promised to show me after I've decided to cooperate completely- I had to know how she was doing, I had the right to know considering that I was her appointed guardian. It was that same stomach-twirling feeling again, the same feeling of repulsion and attraction that I feel when I was given access to information on Mindy.

The only thing shown to me was the fact that Mindy wasn't doing very well, and may very well never recover from what the doctor refers to as a 'parasite that has been festering in her for years'. For the first few days, she was always screaming about killing me, killing the psychiatrist and killing everyone else as she was struggling against her restraints and hurting herself over and over again. Not that she changed much for the next few weeks of footage.

She became calm after the first week, but she was still denying her real identity and existence- she was still Demoness. The other two weeks were spent talking to this shadow of Mindy's- and a cycle of violence and calm was established. One minute she would be dead calm and the next, she would erupt in a frenzy of hatred and crazy ranting. It wasn't very encouraging.

I wasn't given alot of opportunity to help. The most I was allowed to do was to answer questions, fill out a questionnaire and answer even more questions. It was as if they were purposely trying to put an anxiety disorder in me to gain another patient and more medical bills, I was that badly in need of sleeping pills. It didn't help that the doctor told me he wasn't sure what was best for Mindy.

**Three months on... **And Mindy wasn't even close to being out yet, she wasn't even close to being considered safe at all. Dr. Paul had tried most of his approaches... From Psychoanalysis to hypnosis and even one of those group session things, out of many other therapies I have no idea about. Nothing worked, and she had to be pulled away from the group session before any other patients, including herself, were killed.

I couldn't recognise her anymore in the latest video, it was hard to believe three months had passed, the way Mindy had changed. She became pale and yellowish, her hair dishevelled and covering most of her face which I had forgotten for the most part how it used to look and scars running across her skin everywhere. I cried when I saw a clear video of how she looked. She was so thin and frail by that time.

The best prognosis they could give me was that Mindy could be released after a year of intensive treatment, with limited recovery and much collateral damage to her mental stability that she would only at most be a shadow of her former, glorious self. Mindy became my concern, my only real obsession as my life on the streets as Kick-Ass faded away and my school grades began to drop. I don't really even talk to my dad anymore. I'm not exactly in a talking mood with my friends either, and Marcus was still confined to the hospital- He was one person I couldn't bring myself to visit.

If it even mattered at all, the city has since recovered unlike us, her heroes. The streets were a few hundred times safer, with no other supervillains in sight anymore, and people became unafraid to walk the night roads again. The police took up the flag where I left it. It was as if my adventure had never happened and those involved had never existed. It was a happiness I was glad the city could have once again, but I hated it all the same.

But don't feel sad for me. I may have suffered but it was nothing if you look at my Godsister. I could even say I may have won something from this mess on a grand scale, but Mindy... I can't even hope that she would even pull through her inner demons alive...

**Somewhere else...**

The sky was blue with continents of white cotton wool drifting by. It was a sunny day, a very cheerful one- something that was a luxury after what had transpired months ago. Months may have separated now from the blood that was shed then, but the effects were still fresh on the old man's mind.

Grandmaster Aldan was strolling lightly through a flat, well-mown field. In a distance were children playing, and the sound of their happiness carried through to him. It managed to put a smile on his weathered face- the happiness of children did indeed have an infectious quality.

The children were flanked by a large multi-storied school-like complex. Appearance-wise, it was of an old design consisting of steel and concrete complemented by wood and stone, but it served only to widen Aldan's smile even more.

Watching over the children was a tall, lean man in his forties, dressed in black with a bible clutched in his hand, which was hanging limply beside his hip. He was a Catholic priest, and one of the caretakers of the building. Approaching him, Aldan stuck out a gentle hand as a form of courtesy. The priest took it.

"A fine day to you sir, Grandmaster Aldan." The priest greeted the brawny old man as he shook his strong hand, "I am glad you could find the time to be here- God be on your side, every possible factor is in your favour today!"

"My good friend, I am at a loss of words- I can't wait!" Aldan, breaking his tradition regarding the way with words and mannerism, exclaimed, truly excited for the first time in the decade. Several children stopped playing, and looked to Grandmaster Aldan as though he was about to adopt them all.

"Words may need not be involved- Go, and receive your blessing!" The priest, with a wide, beaming smile, said to his friend and gave him a gentle push, a gesture for him that fits his speech. Aldan went ahead, and paced through the crowd of children slowly, his eyes scanning the entire field as the entire crowd stopped what they were doing to watch.

At first, the old man could not find what he was looking for, and panic sets in. 'What if there has been but a mistake to be realised here?' The thought entered his mind as he fought to keep his iron calm from breaking. There was a Chinese boy in one corner, a Russian in another, a group of New Yorkers at several places... 'Where is she?' His mind was conspiring to fail him, to make him break down before a whole company of young souls.

He was wading through a sea of children, searching through what was becoming a stormy sea, until he saw a light in the distance. In a group estranged from the rest sat a pale girl on the ground- she has a wooden sword in one arm, and a wooden buckler in another. Her peers wield similar instruments. A lady was with them, someone in leather, and someone carrying a much larger weapon- a wooden claymore.

He started after them; sure that he had found what he seek. The budding swordsmen began turning to look at him, the pale girl the last to do so, and when she did, the smile that Aldan had started with returned to him, directed at the pale-skinned girl. The smile, for another time, was reciprocated in agreement, this time in a way... That would last for eternity.

"**Nevaeh!"**

**The End**


	27. Bonus: Writer's Commentary Part 1

**The Spiralling**

**Bonus Feature: Writer's Commentary Part 1**

Here in lies what I feel I owed myself and all of you to put in. In this special bonus section, I will be putting down my thoughts and feelings as I wrote the fanfiction, and I will also present a detailed analysis of my own work. Think of this as a special bonus (as I have mentioned), and something like a behind-the-scenes feature. As this is my very first fanfiction completed, I feel that the experience of writing this fanfiction will never be complete of as fulfilling if I leave it out. So, without further ado, let me begin.

**Inspiration and history...**

After watching the movie for the second time as I grew fond of the colourful and creative characters, I started wondering about them the way I would wonder whenever I absorb any new meaningful media. The characters aren't exactly that deep- sure, there's some backstory, there's character interaction, there's a journey from zero to hero... But there's no volume to it. However, as any good, meaningful media was supposed to do, it allows you to fill in the blanks and that was what we were supposed to do in Kick-Ass.

We could infer from what we see on the silver screen the history of each character, as well as the rich details, even if there weren't any. Oh sure, we know Mindy Macready's born from a mother who committed suicide. We know Marcus adopted her and we know she started training from the age of 5 and started killing at around 9+. We know her father gift her with all her knowledge on firearms and other weapons, but did she really learn everything from him? That's where our beautiful mind starts filling in the blanks.

The seeds of my fanfiction was planted into my mind some time after watching the movie over again... It was a scene that just suddenly was implanted in my head on fine morning or afternoon, I can't remember. In it, Kick-Ass was walking down an alley and he started noticing a shadow that flits out at the corner of his eyes. He chases it, and realises it was a girl in white- he thought it was Hit-Girl, so he continued chasing after her, shouting, "Hit-Girl! Wait!" Or something along that line. She said coldly, "I'm not Hit-Girl." Before disappearing over a wall... For some reason, it took me a few days to build this scene, probably because I was never really dead set on writing a Kick-Ass fanfiction back then. It's only later on that I became infatuated with the idea, that the seed grew into an oak tree...

It's on a cold, dead night during one of my worst days in the army that I had a sudden, crazy thought when I tried to fill in the blanks on the movie again. One thing that wasn't really focused on was what's exactly going through Mindy's mind? What was she exactly feeling before she started gunning down thugs, during her killings or in between? Don't get me wrong though, the movie did have scenes that exposes what was feeling and thinking but there wasn't much.

We cannot blame the director for this- Kick Ass was after all, an action superhero movie that tends towards over-the-top action and speech. It was also a comedy and a satire/spoof of the superhero genre, but since when was it ever a drama? A film noir? So it's only natural that 98% of what was going through everyone's head was cut out.

So, the idea hit me as a sudden wave of ideas flooded my mind, filling the previously empty arteries of my desire to write another fanfiction. At that time I was very, very reluctant as my past efforts had only ended up with half-baked, half-edited, half-finished works, but at that time, I became dead sure that this is it- It was something I wanna write my heart out about.

I remember the excitement I felt as I started packing my stuff as I was returning to my army camp (I was on a night out you see), I had a ton of ideas in my head that I need to write down somewhere. Those were general ideas, but most, if not all of them, made it into 'The Spiralling'. It was only as I started writing that I started fleshing out those general ideas with the details and language though.

Upon returning to camp, I kept my stuff, changed into my army shirt and pants and started writing in my diary everything I could manage to put down before lights out at around 11pm, or 11:30pm, I couldn't remember. Here's the entire entry I made that night:

_30 _(Refers to the entry number)_ 250410_ (The date, the way the military wants us to write)_ Sunday 'Day 185 of 730'_

_My very first confinement. 2 days, this weekend. Not that I'm proud of it. God damn it! They better pray that I don't go postal over this. But then again, would I? No way. I don't know what's their logic. Just because an event's cancelled does not mean you had to go to work. I guess that's what you call the military logic. It's for those who'd been here far too long and could no longer retain their sense anymore. I will never talk down to someone like this if this happened to them._

(Urm... Let's just skip to the part where I started writing about my sudden inspiration for a Kick-Ass fanfic)

_Well, at least I'm learning again to write by the thousands and not by the hundreds. I've known the feel of writing by passion rather than ambition again. I felt like a slice of heaven. It felt good. I could work up the passion if I have to, I just gotta remember where my heart lies, and not get distracted by the filth of this world. It's not fake, my passion, just because I had to work it up. It's the same thing as courage. You'd have to work that up, and it doesn't mean a guy was a coward just because he needed a few seconds to find that courage._

_I'm writing a Kick-Ass fan fiction to practice for my own original fiction. It shouldn't be a waste of 'mileage' in the literature context, because there's no such thing. Anyway, it's an unofficial sequel to the story (I'm mixing some elements of the comic into the movie, but it should still be 75% to 80% movie material). It's about Hit Girl and her trauma of losing her father at such a young age. It didn't help that he died quite horribly, and that she failed to save him._

_She was unable to cope, and this caused her to develop a serious Bipolar Disorder and eventually, Split Personality (I forgot the clinical name). Her other personality would then take to the streets as a vigilante seeking vengeance by killing anyone and everyone with even the slightest involvement with her father's death. Kick-Ass is still the main character. At first, he was more busy with trying to comfort Mindy Macready and later Rest Mist, who was trying to continue his family's business from where his father died and left off but eventually, he became caught up with Hit-Girl's other personality, and started investigating from there, not know that it was actually Mindy all along until perhaps the final act._

_I might introduce a new character. I've thought of something interesting, though it may not fit, the idea. The new character is a guy who teaches medieval swordsmanship in rural Canada. The trauma of an early divorce in his late twenties and rejection of his arts as impractical and only for 'clowning' around forces him to move where only the most eager prospective students could find him. He spends 20 years in his medieval academy, ever since the very early 90s, and had a class of students with him._

_His personality is rather interesting. As he had isolated himself for the past 20 years, he had become really behind the times. Plasma TVs, Playstation 3s, and cellular handphones would seem magical to him. He would be utterly shocked when he found out about 9/11 or the 2004 SEA Tsunami._

_It doesn't help that he had partially brainwashed himself back into the medieval ages. He calls his students his apprentices and himself the grandmaster. He had about two masters under him. His slang was quite queer. Due to a shortage of supplies and a disconnection from modern civilization, he uses herbs rather than medicine, clothes of utilitarian, basic design that was undyed. He smiths his own tools and equipment. He uses a claymore, various kinds of swords and daggers in combat and a bow and arrow for hunting._

_Kick Ass would later comment that he was something out of Lord of the Rings or Chronicles of Narnia (not very tight fit. Will find better replacement). Guess what? It was exactly that which would make it rather interesting._

_The reason why he returns home to New York is because he was talked into doing it by his students and fellow teacher, and he really wanted to find out about his wife and house and possibly reunite with them. What he found was a rather gritty New York, and realising that Superheroes had emerged, decided to become one as he found that his wife was alived, but involved with the criminal underworld, possibly kidnapped or worse._

_That's all for now. Writing all this had made me feel way better. I'm glad it did. : ) I guess it would have to be my writing and reading that would get me through this._

As you can see, 95% of the ideas made it into the story. It's only the part about his students and teachers talking him into returning back to New York, his wife being alive and being involved in the underworld that never made it. Also, many other ideas weren't in there- they were thought up as I started writing.

Although it looks like it, the focus of my thought process was never really on the Grandmaster, or Aldan Bonitus as he was named much, much later on. There was less words devoted to the main gist of the story and Hit-Girl, but there was just so much more excitement and interest, and passion in it. I wrote more on the new character simply because I had to- by virtue of the fact that he's new. New characters need an introduction.

After that, writing the very first chapter was quick- it always was in the beginning. If I'm not wrong, subsequent chapters were published quite rapidly, with 2-3 chapters in a week I think. It's only later on that real-life started getting in the way of creativity and free expression, and a brain drain plus writer's block completed the slowdown in updates. If I'm not wrong, there was once when 2 weeks, or even 3 weeks went by without me publishing a new chapter... Looking back, it didn't matter to me anymore as what is important to me is that I've finished telling the story, and it was a pleasure writing it.


	28. Bonus: Writer's Commentary Part 2

**The Spiralling**

**Bonus Feature: Writer's Commentary Part 2**

**In the beginning...**

The general theme of the story is one of reality, of consequences- in other words, The Spiralling is in the territory of a Noir fiction, as it involves crime and vigilantism. It is quite the opposite of the superhero genre really, just like the original comics and movie, seeing that our heroes always came out badly wounded at the least, and people getting more problems than problems getting solved when our dear vigilantes kick in.

It took me some brainpower for me to decide on the title of the story. 'The Spiralling' came up in the end, among titles that would betray the story's intentions (in other words, the twist and its moral teachings, as well as the flesh of the story that I want people to savour), or are simply too direct and flashy. I always wanted something vague, mysterious and dark.

'The Spiralling' came up in the end. It worked well for me, as, from an unwary viewer, he might think, 'What spiralling?' or 'Spiralling into what?' That's exactly what I wanted. The reader might even go so far as to think, 'What's a Spiralling?' In the end, completely missing the point at first thought, but on second thought, he might upgrade to the above two thoughts ( 'Spiralling into what?') with some thinking involved.

By the end, or near end of the story, the readers should know by then what the title meant. The word 'Spiralling' in this context is something of a verb, as in Spiralling into. So 'The Spiralling' refers to something or something spiralling, or in other words, getting reduced, to a lower state. In this case, it meant Mindy spiralling into madness, insanity, grief, into her own mind and total chaos.

The spiralling may also refer to the city going down into a fever of crime and death, with Mindy doubling as what the media dubbed 'The Demoness' and killing the innocents as collaterals with criminals. This interpretation of course, is secondary, considering that my main objective was to make it mean the above. This interpretation could only have come in retrospect, but depending on the reader, it may come first.

Anyway, all my bets were on Mindy's downward spiral into pure insanity with little hope of recovery, if at all. That was the main focus of the story. The secondary focuses would be Dave Lizewski growing up, maturing and learning how to finally become a better person and superhero. This is reflected by the constant upgrade of his uniform/disguise, which went from the original all the way to the original plus a helmet, a Kevlar jacket, utility belt, pepperspray, stungun, handcuffs...

What I've decided to forego would be the fan-anticipated rivalry between Dave and Christopher, along with the character building of most of the original characters. The main focus, after all, was on Mindy and her huge problem, to put it mildly. The decision to kill off Christopher and his Red Mist alter-ego came quite easily to me, as did the decision for me to kill off Mrs. Lizewski. An auxiliary attraction is of course, the introduction of Aldan Bonitus and his search for familial happiness, during which he indivertibly assisted Kick-Ass/Dave.

**A look at the characters...**

**Dave Lizewski/Kick-Ass:** In the comic/film, Dave was just a 16 year old late teenager (If I'm not wrong) who reads comic books, had an impossible-to-break circle of friends and 'just existed' in his own words. He's just a normal teen with his own quirks as well, which is actually quite normal if you're exposed to the real world enough- he has a crush on his literature teacher, on a girl, he reads porn on the net and masturbates on it... Okay, maybe he seems a bit hyped-up on the hormones, but otherwise he's very mediocre.

What sets him apart is the actual decision he took to becoming a superhero, not just out of necessity and frustration (at being mugged and robbed), but also out of fun and curiosity. He was right to say that almost everyone would have thought of becoming a real-life superhero, but very few if not virtually no one at all would dare to don the cape.

Being quite a sheltered kid, and very naive, he came in unprepared, but to cut the story short, Kick-Ass is something like a growing up story for Dave. He experiences pain after his first 'mission' as Kick-Ass, he won his first victory, and had a first major disappointment at himself down the middle. Dave found his first love, had his first sexual encounter, killed his first villain. There are many firsts, which makes me feel that Kick-Ass is really a growing up story for him.

By the end of the comic/movie, Dave became slightly wise beyond his years- being the first instalment of the franchise, it is naturally incomplete with the main character far away from Nevada. This is what I seek to complete with this story, my take on what happens next, in other words, an unofficial sequel to Kick-Ass.

At the start of The Spiralling, Dave experiences another downfall- he lost his girlfriend, who was after all bisexual, the superhero empire he built crumbled with the death of those he inspired, and he lost the will to get out as Kick-Ass as a result. The fact that the police force is getting off their butt made him think Kick-Ass had become history; obsolete, redundant, harmful. Of course, not everyone, if not most people, don't think so, but being an incomplete moralist, he focuses more on his feelings, and decides to retire long before the story started.

By the time the story starts, he was concentrating on his actual life with his friends. Things pretty much reverted to the way they were at the start of the original comic/film, but with Mindy in the picture as a wayward Godsister and some added wisdom in Dave from his previous brush with the criminal underworld. Dave, of course, started out the story both better and worse, being much more mature, confident and willing to stand up for what is right, but he also became drained, somewhat tired of life.

His relationship had evolved from being an aid and tool to Mindy Macready/Hit-Girl in the movie/comic to becoming a friend and partner by the end of the movie/comic. In the story, with both character's alter-ego pretty much retired, they became God-siblings, but something in Mindy went wrong, and although they were still close in heart, their relationship became strained as the girl became quite rebellious, a shadow of justice and a mockery of his virtues.

Cutting to the chase, throughout The Spiralling, with some luck and application of his existing experience and wisdom, he was able to mature even further, and become a better crime-fighter. This is supposed to show through both his small and large successes throughout the story. The general trend was that he failed more in the beginning, but as time went on, he became better, being able to tackle 2 loansharks and their runner, not just by might, but also by way of words and virtue. He was at first very, very disadvantaged against Mindy as the villainous and disturbed Demoness as shown by his first and subsequent encounters with Mindy, but by the end he won out, through a mix of luck, team assistance and his accumulated skills.

Being a noir-like story that focuses on realism however, Dave still both won and lost in the end, having gotten one step forward in terms of maturity, learning and superheroism, but he had also lost his Godsister to insanity, lost his life to his selfless pursuit to help her, as well as his worries and grief for her. His ending is one that is perceived to be a bad one, despite his victory and perfection of his character and alter-ego. This however, does not mean that The Spiralling ends with an irredeemably bad ending, however...

**Aldan Bonitus/Grandmaster:** Aldan is a complex character that came out of the blue to me. It was the third major idea that came to me in the process of writing this story, the first being the seed of the story which I discussed about in part 1, and the second being the entire premise of The Spiralling. Aldan is complex, but inasmuch as a straightforward and honest character may go.

Before his present state, Grandmaster Aldan could be described as an intelligent, virtuous jockey who decides to lay his concentration and entire future on the dying sport of medieval swordsmanship. His backstory is that he learnt it from this other guy (who happens to be the same psychiatrist trying to treat Mindy at the end of the story) in university and decides to take it on as his career choice on reasons of passion. He got married, but his life and happiness was marred by the lack of proper employment and stable income, leading to frequent quarrels and unrest between him and his wife. Not to mention his in-laws.

Becoming distraught over his plight, he divorced her and ran away in his mid 20s, up to Southern Ontario in Canada. There, possessing still his great passion for his art, he set up a medieval swordsmanship school from scratch, with whatever he may have in his possession- perhaps all his savings, his swordsmanship equipments and by sheer will. His school can best be described as Hogwarts-like, except it teaches swordsmanship rather than magic.

Overtime, he became withdrawn from civilization and current trends ever since the early 1990s, with his only inflow of modern ideas coming from whatever students he took in. In living the life of a hermit, then a teacher and grandmaster, he became very intelligent and wise as he transferred his knowledge to others and sharpened his own craft and wits, if he isn't all of the above in his young adulthood already.

His journey in this story is very different from that of Dave's, having already reached a level of maturity as high as a grand sage. His is more on the adventure side, considering his exploration of the modern world, finding his old memories of it very outdated (He has never seen handphones smaller than bricks and televisions thinner than a wall before). Intentionally, I have made it such that his theme is that of the fantasy genre, so that I could emphasize on his self-estrangement from everything modern.

In a way, Aldan is going in the opposite direction of Dave- the latter grows up and forgets childhood happiness, while the former tries to rediscover the happiness of his youth. He does this by returning to New York in search of clues that would lead him to his wife and a kid who was born in his last encounter with his wife a decade ago. He does this of course, with the help of one of his apprentice, Michael, which he had to accept reluctantly.

Needless to say, he reached a destination on the opposite side of Dave's, having finally found everlasting happiness in the form of his real daughter, who resides in an orphanage that supports Catholic Christianity and Medieval Swordsmanship. Although he had lost his wife, he perceives this to be his ultimate happiness, having gone through thick and thin to get to her- Nevaeh was after all, the remaining part of his family. Half of infinite happiness is still infinite happiness.


	29. Bonus: Writer's Commentary Part 3

**The Spiralling**

**Bonus Feature: Writer's Commentary Part 3**

**Michael/ Apprentice: **Michael makes his first appearance at the same time as Grandmaster, convincing him to bring him along by virtue of the fact that he knows more of the outside world than him. Michael is one of the many apprentices of Aldan, perhaps one of his closest. He is loyal to him- a typical disciple of sorts that plays at the fantasy theme of Grandmaster's side of the story.

The apprentice is a minor character, having a small role in the story, but serves to expose the many good sides of Aldan Bonitus, making him very important. For example, in disallowing him to participate in his journey to find his family, Aldan was showing concern of Michael's well-being and education in swordsmanship. Just talking to him shows Aldan to be very wise and philosophical. When Michael died, Aldan was shown to appreciate people, giving him a quick 'burial' before leaving the body to the police.

Michael is a typical young character- foolhardy, not too skilled, unwitting, which unfortunately lead to his death, when he underestimated Mindy and went on ahead to engage her. He was quickly overwhelmed and killed.

**Marcus Williams/ Sergeant Marcus Williams:** In the original, he was a former colleague and partner to Damon Macready, and remains a friend throughout, though he was intentionally cut off from the family after Damon came out of prison. Being a former guardian of Mindy, he was responsible for taking care of her for the first five years of her life, and was probably a protective and loving parent judging from his disagreement with what Damon felt was right for Mindy, and how he still wanted so much to see her even after his role as a guardian was over.

By the end of the movie (and in the comic book where he was featured as the investigating officer) he became the stepfather of Mindy, as Damon Macready was killed by savage beatings and fire after being betrayed by Red Mist. He was shown as a normal, loving parent in the final scene.

In 'The Spiralling', he resumes the same role and takes a small part, though I've decided to make him oblivious to everything in part due to his apparent single-parent status, meaning he won't have time to fully parent Mindy and could easily have been manipulated by her (manipulate in this case means to lie to, to mislead and take advantage of).

Also, other than the reason that his is a minor role, why he appeared infrequently is because by the time the story started, the police were already planning a big hit on the D'Amico empire- By the climax of the story, the police was throwing everything it has on the D'Amico headquarters, a skyscraper probably loaded with the D'Amico family's secrets. Another obvious reason was because he was shot at several times over by his own stepdaughter (though he wouldn't know Demoness was Mindy), and incapacitated as a result.

He was put in ICU for a day and even after that he was unresponsive. The attack on him rouses the good, but unknowing Mindy into action. That was his main role in the story.

**Christopher D'Amico/ Red Mist:** Support villain of the original movie and comics, a major character in both. His role was diminished to that of a minor character as the focus of the story is not on him. In the original, Christ is shown to be an over-sheltered teenager with his own bodyguard, a pampering mobster for a father whose mother totally agrees to whatever he does like a sheep and everything he could ever want within his hand's reach.

Christopher is similar to Dave in many ways, a comic book enthusiast (street terms would include geek and nerd) and a wannabe. The latter similarity though, has a different focus. Dave wants to try his hand at being a superhero, but Christ wants to be like his dad, and secondarily a superhero (it was a part of his conceived plot to capture Dave and impress his dad, so its secondary). This is further reinforced by the fact that he would rather side with his father in the end than defect to Mindy and Dave's side.

Like Dave, this character's transformation has a growing up theme to it, except it was probably corrupted. He managed to get involved in his father's business when initially he was rejected flat out, and he lost his father- which probably should add to his learning process as this would mean he would have to take matters into his own hands as a fledgling mastermind if he wants revenge against Kick-Ass.

In the story, I took this one step further by portraying him as being next in line to the D'Amico business, and he was actually taking charge, rebuilding what was lost, and actually getting his hands dirty to do so. Had it not been for the major villain, who is also a minor supporting character, he would have gone out of hand and present an impossible target to Kick-Ass, not that Demoness is anymore possible to dispatch. This is actually quite fitting for a noir, as it seems to prove that doing what is morally wrong is the ticket to success. One silver lining though in this case was of course, he was killed off, but not to the glee of New York's finest and her citizens, as someone worse decided to terrorize the city.

**Angie D'Amico: **Another very minor character who had some screentime in 'The Spiralling'. Her presence serves as something of a main target for Demoness in the final scene. In the movie, she was depicted as a submissive wife to Frank D'Amico.

In this story, I portrayed her as more of a survivor who had endured the lost of her entire family, rather than the fragile homemaker that the movie seems to depict her as (though with the very limited exposure the character has to the camera I cannot be sure). Angie and her bodyguards, along with the remains of the D'Amico soldiers, were pretty much there to show just how powerful Demoness was- they were annihilated by her (though to be fair, she's insane beyond comprehension, but she's still 10-years-old).

**Mindy Macready/ Hit-Girl/ Demoness:** The young arch-villain of the story, though it won't be apparent until the twilight of the story. In 'The Spiralling', she was what would either make or break the story, depending on the reader's taste, just like how it was like for the original movie and comic series, and just like how it was like in the original, it won't be apparent at first.

Dave of course, takes the lead for the story at first, similar to how it was like originally, although, this time, I had tried my best not to allow Mindy to overshadow him. This, of course, I may have failed in, as this Little Miss Badass is a remarkably special character, and the augmentations I made to her may have made her even more overpowering as a fictional character. In other ways, it may be inevitable that she may steal the limelight sooner or later.

This brings to mind her original adventures in the canon, which we must understand and infer from if we are to fully comprehend the going-ons of 'The Spiralling'. So... Based on both comic and movie canon, with all characters following the standard movie framework (Damon Macready being a real cop and stuff...), we know that Mindy's childhoos was tumultuous and tough at best, though by virtue of an adaptive child's mind, she took it to her stride (this, I can't be sure).

In the movie, she was born from a dead mother after his father was framed as a crooked cop dealing in drugs and was sentenced to five years in prison. The girl then was saved from the orphanage by Damon Macready's former partner, Marcus Williams. The latter spent five years taking care of her, and was responsible for her early development.

Most likely, he has absolutely nothing to do with her later development, as he was portrayed as being a normal and protective guardian and a loving one at that.

Mindy was reunited with her real father after that, who probably, after that, alienates his former colleague from the family and started training her. Based on what I can see, her training would most likely include secret weapons training on every available firearms Damon may or may not be able to procure, classes on each firearms, how to maintain them, how to strip and assemble them... Among many other things which I probably should list for fear of this paragraph never ending.

She would certainly be trained physically (weights, cardiac exercises, stretching...), leading to martial arts, use of all sorts of conventional and unconventional killing instruments. Damon would most likely have one or two masters on his side.

Based on the comic, she would have fought on several occasions, possibly in a restaurant owned by the D'Amico business used as a base of operations at one point, for example.

Cutting to the chase, she continued operating with her father after that, working up the D'Amico hierarchy tree, met Kick-Ass, tried to recruit him but fails, tried to help him but lost her father, and promptly avenges him, nearly getting herself killed in the process. At the end, Marcus reunites with her and became her stepfather.

What I would like to focus on are the mental traumas she suffered (or could possibly have suffered from)- despite being a Sailor-mouthed, cold-blooded mass killer, she is entirely capable of that, simply because there are people she loved and paid attention to. Mindy had plenty to lose.

Let us analyse her traumas, let us start from the beginning. She was born out of a dead mother and was taken into a family friend's home. Marcus was a protective, normal quardian, so the first five years of her life must be full of love, toys and fun- in other words, she was sheltered.

So if you are a child living an idealistic life, how would you feel upon finding out that your real mother died giving birth to you? Worst still, what if you found out your mother died by overhosing herself with drugs after getting too stressed up over financial and emotional issues? The problem can become bigger if Mindy knew having a mother is a norm, and if she had any peers she may have suffered peer rejection, taunting and ostracising. And this is just a single issue.

What if you were having a happy life for the past five year, and you found out one fine day that your real father was in prison because of 'the bad people'? If the mother was dead but the father was still around there was still a chance for Mindy to emerge relatively fine, but of course, Mindy isn't exactly lucky... Same thing applies regarding norm, peer rejection and the likes. In fact, having these multiple issues compounds the problem for Mindy.

Then, five years after birth, you reunite with your dad, all is well right? Far from it in Mindy's case. She would've most likely lose the only father she knew in her life upon gaining back her rightful one. Then, throw in the adjustments she would have to make. In Mindy's case, these adjustments would be about the size of Manhattan itself.

The girl who had a sheltered existence would suddenly need to think about killing, taking revenge, handling firearms, enduring endless high intensity training, regimentation and God forbid, probably forced mental growth (in terms of maturity) which resulted in her endless cussing. These are all obviously too hardcore for a little sheltered girl, so imagine the pressure and emotional turmoil. The fact that she enjoyed killing drug dealers was chilling. It shows adaptation, but a form of adaptation that shouldn't be found on any young girls, or any sane normal human being for that matter.

Don't get me wrong, there is indeed love between Mindy and Damon, but this is just another thing she has to lose, and lose it she did. Months into their revenge missions, Mindy watched her real father BURN slowly to death. We can only be thankful that she may have missed watching her father get beaten nearly to death. Well, she MAY have. Chances are probably though, trained as she was in the art of military tactics and intelligence, she would have had to, to monitor the situation, if she wasn't crawling somewhere in the first place during Dave and Damon's savage beatings.

What we have here is a child who's royally messed up in the head by the epilogue of Kick-Ass. This forms the basis of 'The Spiralling'- A side of Mindy that I feel was left out almost entirely, both in the movie and comic series, but was explored a bit more in the second, albeit in a very incomplete fashion.

The canon Mindy we are all familiar with is the tough one-girl army sort who treats death as a joke and destruction as fun. To my point of view, this is incomplete as what we were presented with was just the action- the flesh. We haven't gone deeper to gaze at the soul yet, but understandably so; My source media is afterall a superhero action film, not a drama. There was tragedy, but the comedy and explosions overpowered it, forcing drama into a few scenes that were, in fact, beautiful- that goes for both the movie and comic versions. 'The Spiralling' explores these previously almost virgin places.

The start of 'The Spiralling' was placed 3 months after the events of the movie/comic. By this time, Mindy was a dominating bully who monopolised the school's bully market- she was remarkably successful at intimidating everyone, even her seniors. From this depiction, I was trying to show that she was buckling under the pressure of her emotional grief, and she started her round of bullying and bad behaviour in a vain effort to alleviate her pain by gaining pleasure from power-playing and coercing others, in other words, anti-socialism and sadism.

Her many mental problems at the start were already present, including clinical depression and the main reason why the story happened, Dissociative Identity Disorder. The Demoness had already existed before 'The Spiralling' started, but she doesn't have much power in the beginning, being only capable of forcing certain simple actions on Mindy, such as writing a threatening email to Dave and forcing her to take a 'vacation' (which was supposed to hinted as a time when she operated as Demoness).

In subsequent chapters, she became much stronger as Mindy's mind started breaking at the seams. The way Dave slapped her, and how things have become between them did not help either. By midnight on day 1, she was able to manifest herself, as in taking over as the dominant personality, and fight Kick-Ass. In a way. Chapter 1-3 serves as a gateway between the original and my story, in which Mindy has finally lost the war in her mind and allowed the other personality to take over for lengthy periods at a time.

With every evil deed Demoness does, Mindy, who was reduced to being a spectator, was forced to watch her own body severely wounding Dave, killing innocents and indulge in masochism. The more she watch, the more she became distraught, which shifts the power of control towards Demoness more. Of course, being a sufferer of DID, she couldn't remember everything that happened when Demoness took over, but the feeling of helplessness, depression and anxiety were still real, and so was the shift of power and control towards Demoness.

One interesting thing of note though is that as Demoness tries to take over, all those bad memories would come back to her as well, as the other personality merges with the original to wrestle the control over the body before expelling the Mindy/Hit-Girl personality into a helpless corner of the mind. The above dynamics explains why Mindy acted pretty normal and thought Demoness was an actual villain when she was Demoness after all.

This went on for the duration of the story, to cut to the chase. Mindy became weaker, and could only intervene once in a while as Demoness was in control, the same way the Demoness could compel Mindy to do but a few certain simple tasks. This is actually the reason why Marcus wasn't killed and Demoness could not execute Kick-Ass/Dave when she very much wanted to.

Despite these small triumphs, Mindy's end was the most tragic- having been brutally injured by her own God-brother and partner, with many broken bones and getting sent to a mental institution with little hope for recovery. Oh, and Demoness had, by then, monopolised Mindy's mind. Even if she recovers, so much damage had already been done to her.


	30. Bonus: Writer's Commentary Part 4

**The Spiralling**

**Bonus Feature: Writer's Commentary Part 4**

**Demoness:** The Demoness was a part of Mindy that was cut off and formed into a different entity born from her years of anguish. Though Demoness was Mindy, there were many differences when she was taken over by this alternate personality, so as such, she deserves a section of her own.

The purpose of Demoness' existence was to wreck vengeance, at any cost, on everyone who caused Mindy to suffer- which is to say, anyone and everyone who was directly or indirectly involved in her parents' demise. She did this at any cost, which meant anyone who stood in her way, whether they were on the side of the law and good or corruption and the bad would be swept aside, decapitated. As rendering vengeance was her only goal, the only thing she cared about, she would have no problem doing this, even if it means killing Dave the way an innocent girl would put the star of Bethlehem atop a Christmas Tree.

Demoness could do this easily and efficiently as she lacks any form of remorse save for those reserved for herself and Mindy, and even that was limited and misguided (very much). Moreover, as Demoness enjoys her work, she would even be motivated to kill off her supposed offenders, going so far as to getting a huge kick out of torturing and mutilating them that she would always try for perfection- Inflicting as much pain and despair as possible for the longest amount of time possible.

As the story marches on in its dark beats, the Demoness was shown to be harming herself and Mindy as well- This is not just to show her dark, masochistic side. The story behind this is that it was also a manifestation of her self-blame. Mindy blames herself for what had befallen her parents and in the story, Marcus. She will keep blaming herself, what with new 'victims' constantly being added onto the list.

The skeleton of her self-blame and subsequent self-hurt consists of both the logical and insensible. Mindy blames herself for her father's death, thinking that could she had been faster, more intelligent and proficient in her skills, she could have saved him. She would go on to think that she wasn't good enough to avenge him, as she actually needed a goofball like Dave or Kick-Ass to save her life twice.

The above could also be a seed to another grief- She couldn't take Frank D'Amico's life by her own hands. That besides the point, as insensible as it was, Mindy blames herself for her mother's death, that somehow she was a deadweight in her mom's womb, causing her to cope poorly to her plight.

That said, Demoness was an elaborate and grand manifestation of all of Mindy's past traumas and insecurities, large and small. This manifestation took the form of a personality as a way to cope, having been bottled up inside for too long, and she suffered immensely for too long throughout the years.

**The City/New York/Everyone Else:** The Big Apple is also a character on its own, personified by the denizens of the iconic city. In the original movie and comics, the city was portrayed to be slack as the police force was not doing anything to stamp out the city's rash of crime. Another interpretation was that the police was incapable- which is actually a fair argument, with signs of corruption in the form of Detective Gigante.

As a city personified, New York would be feeling hopeless about the crime disease it has suffered; depressed, forlorn, like a stereotypical terminal illness patient.

In the unofficial sequel, New York had a brief uplifting of hope but it was crushed as the disease fought back with renewed vigour. She could still be said to be soldiering on though, as the police had woken up and was planning a death strike on the D'Amico empire all along though of course, the effort was devastated by Demoness.

The city did pull through again in the end, and a valiant fight was put up indeed. Dave's friends were acting like the city's voice when they told him about how the media originating from the city was predicting Demoness' motivations and goals and do not forget; Dave, Aldan and Michael are part of the city...


	31. Bonus: Writer's Commentary Part 5

**The Spiralling**

**Bonus Feature: Writer's Commentary Part 5**

**Beauty and Dust**

I was underwater, while exploring a post-apocalyptic scenery. My eyes were open at the foot of the stairs I was swimming towards, and through the strangely clear water I saw something that doesn't fit the ruins of the building around me.

There was this young girl in a pale blue (can't really remember the color) school uniform, pale with radiant blonde hair that resembled shining gold. Her eyes were golden as well (if I could even remember...). On her right shoulder was a black bag. I surfaced and walked up to her, greeting her silently. I remember we walked together, made a rush towards somewhere or something I hadn't got the vaguest clue about by now.

We reached an open area of the ruins that were without ceiling and all of a sudden she uttered something about an irritation on her right arm which she was scratching. I told her not to touch it, but as I looked down I saw dust trickling down her right wrist. It wasn't the sands of the desert around the ruins; it was coming from within and without her.

The radiant girl fell forward, in pain and crying out, and I caught her, hugged her as she was suffering. Dust was trickling down her body at an alarmingly increasing rate. All I can remember was that I said she must be centuries old, and that I comforted her- told her she would be going to heaven. The girl was just looking at me- we regarded each other eye-to-eye, both of us suffering in our own way, pain in body and grieving at beauty's loss respectively. She was wincing, but not alone in doing so; my heart was aching at the sight of innocence lost.

The girl disintegrated soon after completely into dust.

Beautiful, sweet girl, I hope you're happy and in heaven now. I honestly hope you are. You've inspired me, made my morning tranquil and beautiful like you, even though it was sad that you had to go. Beautiful, sweet girl, be happy in heaven and... Don't worry about me.

**The architect marvels at his own skyscraper...**

**Chapter 1: Vacation: **Although it was not reflected in both title and not directly in the paragraphs, Chapter 1 acts as the introduction of the story, as does most initial chapters of most stories, if not all. Chapter 1 acts like a tour guide, to showcase the world in this sequel, which is unofficially the same as the original Kick-Ass world, but with changes, just like in real life. Chapter 1, like the historian of a museum, showcases these changes.

In 'Vacation', it was remarked that the superhero trend is falling out of favour almost as quickly as it was made a trend in the first place, with the help of the Armenian Guy who kick-started both the Kick-Ass movie and comic in the first place, and the fat blue blobman who was shown in one of the last few panels of Kick-Ass 1's epilogue. Their death and fall was the death and fall of the entire superhero movement. Big Daddy and Kick-Ass's fate on camera could be said to be prime factors as well. The fact that many of the unnamed 'superheroes' who took after Kick-Ass weren't actually so courageous didn't help either.

Another major change is the attitude of the New York police- you can say they became the direct successors to the superheroes trend, an ancient idea that restored itself like a Phoenix. They became inspired by the whole episode of Kick-Ass kicking crime's ass, starting from him taking on 3 thugs to him bringing down the D'Amico drug empire by decapitating it. Inspiration can never be enough, and you can say they are awakened to their conscious by his painful near-death situation on camera, the many deaths of the new costumed heroes to the shame that two kids could do what an entire army of blue jackets could not.

As for our dear protagonists, the relationship between Dave and Mindy has soured even before the story started. Mindy had changed- becoming rebellious and wayward as the first scene with her in it suggests. In school, she became the very same kind of knuckle-headed bully that she fought against in the epilogue of the original media, and more, demanding more than just lunch money and clearing the halls everywhere she stepped into. Yet, she was able to keep news of her misdemeanours within the walls of the school. She was very close to Dave, their relationship building rapidly ever since the original, but most of it fell apart as she isolated herself and went her way to make sure Dave hates him. Being a dedicated God-brother however, that's not possible.

Dave on the other hand, became a little Down-to-Earth and world weary, even serious and mature, but was still very prone to his flights of fantasy, which he undertook to run away from his troubles temporarily. His long-lived innocence was shattered when his golden age grounds to a halt, leading to the shit hitting the fan- dumped by girlfriend, Kick-Ass not needed, even doing more harm, his God-sister becoming an unstoppable and heavy-handed brat... You name it. He suffered and took a toll.

Another thing that this chapter showcased was an introduction to an all-important element of the story, the emotional fragility of Mindy, brought about by her pent-up stress and emotional breakdowns. This serves as a foreshadow to what is to come, but it won't be apparent (or at least I intended it to be so) until the back of the story.

Also, this chapter tells the reader that she went for a vacation- the icebreaker for the story's great big plot twist at the back. The small part where Dave was told she went on vacation serves to eliminate Mindy Macready from being suspected of being Demoness. In itself, this would not work, but put this together with all the other hints that seems to tell the reader that she's innocent, and it would- at least that's my intention.

In truth, she was compelled by the Demoness personality to go to Safehouse B to prepare for the operations that will take New York city by storm- she lost most of her control to Demoness during this chapter in other words. The 'vacation' she went for was just the cover story of the cunning Demoness. The title of this chapter refers to this 'vacation', and aims to trick the reader further.

As I wrote this chapter, was very excited about my idea. As this is just the beginning of the story, I was fresh and ready to go, as evident from me publishing chapters in rapid succession- I remember publishing two chapters within a day or two several times during this period of inspiration. However, I was also trying to get used to the general style and mood of the Kick-Ass kind- it was way different from my usual writing style. While I tend to be metaphorical, device-oriented, technical, serious and dark, writing the Kick-Ass way requires numerous pop-culture references, comedy, lightheartedness...

Thankfully, as I was also adapting some elements from the comics as well, I was allowed to be serious and dark- this is further encouraged as the general tone of this fan fiction that I planned was supposed to be angsty, tragic and dramatic. Regarding the general tone, it was already apparent right from this chapter, which cements it.

What I regretted about this chapter however, was the way I treated Katie Deauxma's character however. I would have preferred it, as an afterthought, that she was never toying with Dave and heterosexuality to begin with- I stick as close to canon as possible, and somehow, making Katie Deauxma an actual lesbian was what I did, which defeats the attitude I prefer to maintain. While I wrote that it was also because Dave went back on his promise of going back to the streets as Kick-Ass that Katie left, in retrospect Katie never felt complete and canon to me.

A great regret that I came to realise was that by eliminating Katie from this unofficial sequel right at the beginning, I was also eliminating alot of possibilities that came with this supporting character.

**Chapter 2: The Return: **Chapter 1 introduces the story and builds up a platform for things to take off, not just to any place, but to an airport of violence, blood, action, humor and emotions. It sets the stage for the bulk of the storyline to occur and explains why Kick-Ass has to return again. Chapter 2 builds on that by depicting Dave restarting his adventure by, first, doing the detective work first (this hints at his new approach to things which is to think and plan first rather than to just jump in, showing that he had grown a bit in the head since the events of the first movie).

His investigative work builds on his efforts to revitalise and improve his Kick-Ass suit. Together, it would be like the most recent Batman film's the making of Batman scenes, where Christopher Nolan's character, Bruce Wayne, progressively defines his equipment and improves on them, and does his research on the criminal activities in Gotham City. Only, in 'The Spiralling', this takes place over the course of 2 days, rather than the unsaid number of days and even weeks in Batman Begins. Although, to be fair, Kick-Ass's costume and equipment are more crude, and his methods of investigation much less deep and intelligent.

Chapter 2 is not exactly Dave Lizewski-centric though. 'The Return' fleshes out the backstory even more, of how Christopher brings crime back up to a point where a major bank robbery was successful, necessitating Kick-Ass's return.

Other than that, this chapter serves to expose Dave's relationships with the other characters, developing the strained relationship between him and Mindy as well, making it quite obvious that he was still feeling the guilt for indirectly causing Damon Macready's death, and that he and Mindy had once pledged to be more than friends but this relationship was soured because of past unforgettable events- their friendship and partnership grew to something of a brother-sister relationship, but was stained black by guilt, loss and emotional trauma. All this was revealed via the messages he sent to the respective people.

Of course, as part of the take-off from the Chapter 1 platform, the villainous Red Mist was reintroduced through his message to Kick-Ass. It was exactly the same one as the one he typed in the comics and to a lesser extent, the movie. This serves as a direct link between this and the originals. A second antagonist was 'introduced'- but was kept anonymous, unknown, to keep the readers on edge and guessing. The second antagonist here was overshadowed by Red Mist, or at least I intended it to be this way. This second antagonist was the whole point of the story, but I didn't want the readers to know it right from the beginning, serving as a minor twist to the story. This is to surprise the audience, though to what extent this worked I don't know.

The latter half of the chapter is a build up to the first climax in the next chapter, showing Kick-Ass pondering before he jump into action and travelling towards the arena he named for his confrontation with Red Mist and the unknown enemy.

'The Return', the title of this chapter, refers to Kick-Ass bringing himself out of retirement, drawn by the return of organised crime brought about by his archenemy, Red Mist.


	32. Bonus: Writer's Commentary Part 6

**The Spiralling**

**Bonus Feature: Writer's Commentary Part 6**

**Chapter 3: Crimson on Blue: **The title 'Crimson on Blue' refers to the blood on Kick-Ass's costume as he lie battered beneath Demoness's steel fan. This chapter is pretty much dedicated to introducing Demoness to the mass. Her character was described in detail here, or rather, at least her physical appearance was. Her looks, weapons, sadism and mannerism were all put down in words. At this point however, it wasn't obvious that she would be the main big bad villain yet though.

This chapter pretty much marks the end of the transition between Kick-Ass and this unofficial sequel as Red Mist was killed, and a new (and likely worse) enemy was introduced. Before this, hints of the end of the transition were already there. Dave had finished upgrading his suit to the next level of utility, the progress of all the major and support characters so far had been filled in- all that was needed was a new villain followed by a new conflict.

'Crimson on Blue' is also the chapter in which the first fight happened, and it was between the Kick Ass 'version 3.0' and Demoness. Other than to gratify fans of explicit violence and explosions, bring in some cool factors and advance the plot and express the characters, the purpose of this first encounter between Dave and the mentally ill Mindy was to show how terribly one sided the battle was- and how hopeless it would be for Dave to kick Demoness's prepubescent ass.

So why show Dave's lack of capability? I did it to express that Dave, despite the lessons learnt from his previous brush with the criminal underworld, had still so much more to learn, and what he went through before was just the tip of the iceberg. This sets the stage for this unofficial sequel, the stage on which Dave matures more. The contrast between this fight and the last is pretty wide.

In his first fight, not only did Dave Lizewski lose, he lose so badly that it was shameful- imagine a decade old young girl dominating you with a fan when you had batons, stunguns and peppersprays at your disposal. While he suffered as much pain and wounds, lost as much blood as in the first fight, Dave prevailed in his last encounter with Demoness- instead, having snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, he prevailed with glory won from the same blood he lost in the fight.

The first encounter with the Demoness was also an omen of things to come. She had managed to wrestle Dave easily to the ground, and as Kick-Ass was a symbol of the city, that would mean the city would be falling with her hero. Demoness's speech as she spared Kick-Ass from an early end to his life confirms this- he's the 'last soul to take', and he's 'supper'. This is to advance the plot. Had Kick-Ass died, there would either be no story to tell, or it would take this sequel too far off-course (A new main character would have to be introduced, and Dave would have become a decoy protagonist).

This does not mean Mindy sparing Dave was just an excuse for the story to continue longer, though, I had other, more realistic things, in mind. For one, I could imagine that she would want to prolong his suffering for as long as possible, which is what this she-devil villain does best. By killing him last, Demoness would have made Dave felt plenty of guilt for causing all those people's death (Starting from Damon Macready to her last victim) to last him a few lifetimes- and boy did he felt all of it. Not to mention, by killing him last, she could have beaten him up over and over again, knowing that he was so much weaker.

**Chapter 4: Homebound:** The caption for this chapter, at first glance, refers to Dave's return home after his first encounter with the unknown, by now made not so unknown but known in a brutal, painful way. However, the original meaning of the chapter's title was referring to both Dave and the Grandmaster's (at this time his name is still unknown) return home. Dave as Kick-Ass returns to his suburban house while Grandmaster was on his way back to New York City.

On Kick-Ass's side of the chapter, what was shown was all blood and bruises- This is to emphasize Demoness's power and skill, her ability to cause pain and cripple, and her no-hold-bars bloodlusty willingness to do it, going so far as to enjoy it as a sport, getting a kick out of it. Dave was half-way from dying, but very far from it- hinting at Demoness's uncanny precision in causing pain and suffering without killing. To emphasize this further, there was no muscle tears, broken bones or destroyed organs- she's farming Dave for the pleasure of inflicting pain on someone she hates (to Demoness, but only to a limited extent, Mindy, there's a difference, don't forget). Talk about death by a thousand cuts...

On Grandmaster's side of the chapter, the intent was to introduce this new quaint old character, but not too much. It wouldn't be exciting if everything was revealed all at once, so I did it over the entire course of the story, and showed only a few things in this chapter. There is a function to this though- by spreading information on Grandmaster throughout the story, I could write more on this old man, and elaborate so much more on every single small detail, ranging from his mindset, to his relations, to his goals and dreams, his needs and wants, his motivations, his skills and talents... Everything. This method allows for more character development as well, and it all starts from this little introduction in this chapter.

Other than this, the rural academy he resides in was also described, along with the people in it. One of them, his apprentice, would serve a bigger purpose here later on. The scene in rural Canada was inspired by the prevalent image of a Buddhist fighting monk's monastery that was seeded all over the place in my culture. I just thought, what reason does other countries have that they have no similar institutions? Except, of course, the swordsmanship academy I conceived was centred on the art of medieval swordsmanship, not Buddhism and Wushu.

In giving a tour of Grandmaster's place of residence, I was also giving him his character and backstory. The academy is intentionally backward, what with bows, hides and leather still in use- this elaborates on his technophobic and hermit-like nature, which was, in the unofficial sequel, justified to a certain extent. It is however, his way of dedicating himself to his chosen art form, and to his deep grievances which was his marriage and career traumas.

His dialogue with one of his best apprentices was another device to reveal more in-depth his character. His various quotes of wisdom shows... well, that he is one guy overfilling with wisdom learnt from life's experiences and pain. He's also religious, though I've made an effort not to let it overshadow his other qualities too much- it's simply not the point of his personality, even if it's a big part of him.

One part of him that was important was how he cares for his apprentice, and everything he built in the name of his swordsmanship art. He wouldn't let the apprentice come with him, and later on his chauffeur, even if it meant he would have an easier time in the city he left more than a decade ago- He wanted them in the academy so that the apprentice would not need to spend his time helping him instead of continuing with his education in the academy. As for the driver, having him in the academy would help the institution immensely, seeing that technology was mostly voided there. He relented afterwards of course, to his student's insistence though, with a price... Showing that no matter how perfect a person is, well, bad things could still befall them whether it was because they can never be totally perfect, or because circumstances can never be perfect.


	33. Bonus: Writer's Commentary Part 7

**The Spiralling**

**Bonus Feature: Writer's Commentary Part 7**

**Chapter 5: An End at Dawn:** Basically, 'An End at Dawn' refers to the supposed end to the story, which took place in the morning when the raid on the Demoness began and ended in ernest. Note that there is a part 2, and yet there was no part 1. This is to catch the readers off-guard, to hide away the fact that this chapter isn't what it appears to be at first glance. At the end, Kick-Ass was able to save Hit-Girl from an otherwise certain death, and was about to carry her away from the apartment to the hospital when the story fades away and cuts. This is to give the illusion of an optimistic end to the chapter.

Although the purpose of this chapter and the next was to draw the readers in and make them think it was over only to surprise and even shock (heck, or even terrify a few of them- if you read the next chapter you'd know what I mean) them, there must still be signs that something seems to be amiss. To achieve this, I've placed something right at the beginning of this chapter, or rather, I've not done something at the start. Between Chapter 4 and this part, notice that there was a break in the story. In chapter 4, Dave returned home with alot of bleeding around his body- the chapter ends with him patching himself up. Chapter 5 starts with him and Mindy making preparations to counter-attack Demoness.

'What the hell?' Some of my readers would no doubt start thinking- and immediately they'd know that something was just not right. Of course, the problem is, it could go both ways in this case. Some may just dismiss it completely as an acceptable lapse in time between the two chapters, to skip away some boring parts as Dave fixes himself up so that we could get on to the action. However, some may also think I could have forgotten to upload a chapter or accidentally deleted a few paragraphs. The former is still acceptable, as such readers would still be vulnerable to the surprise/shock/terror in part 2, but the latter isn't. Thankfully, I've only received a single inquiry about this part, so safe to say this worked.

More signs that this could be a dream sequence was how perfect some of Kick-Ass's manoeuvres went. We knew in real-life that Dave could never possibly kick open a door, and shoot Demoness in the head without aiming, and yet he did it. Again, this can be hard to spot, considering that anyone who read this unofficial sequel would willingly suspend their beliefs. The cheesiness can be another sign- Demoness reading a book on the occult, Kick-Ass and Hit-Girl proceeding to fight crime like Batman and Robin... Though, this hint isn't very strong.

Anyway, as you can see, even in a dream, Kick-Ass was still quite an incapable average Joe- rushing into the apartment recklessly, he got himself shot and fell out of the skirmish almost as soon as it started, leaving his partner alone against the new menace. This serves the same purpose as in Chapter 3: Crimson on Blue- to show that he has alot, alot to learn despite his past experiences. When this idea was conceived in my head, I chuckled to myself. 'This could work,' I thought to myself. It did to me at least, in the same way Dave was stabbed and knocked down by a car in his first attempt at crime-fighting. I guess in both cases, he failed so badly and suffered so damn horribly for it that it became horribly funny- hey, it works. I've successfully (at least I think so) replicated that same feeling you get watching the movie. Great times.

Other than this, this chapter was a great opportunity to stage a rare Hit-Girl versus Demoness fight. Due to their similar fighting style and strength (though Demoness was slightly better), it became an interesting match- I knew it would be, if I could make it so. For this fight, I drew my inspiration from John Woo and Wu Xia choreography in general. What I regret here, though, was that I wasn't able to translate all the imagery in my head into words. I may have written that they were flying around and dodging each other, but I failed to elaborate on how they did it, and the motions of the combat. I left it to the imagination of the readers, but such a complex scene... I wasn't sure if everyone could imagine a good fight scene without some literary aids.

**Chapter 6: An End at Dawn Part. 2:** Drops the bombshell. Chapter 2 reveals, in a hopefully shocking way, that all along, the last chapter and the start of this chapter had all been a scary nightmare after all. This was designed to not be immediately obvious though. I knew that for there to be horror, there must be a build-up of suspense and sometimes, 'weirdness'. I tried to achieve this by gradually breaking down the logic of the dream.

I started with the ominous word, 'Wait...' It halts the dream from ending with a happy ending immediately, with Kick-Ass and Hit-Girl going to hospital happily ever after. Instead, it shows that there was something else, either something very good or something very bad was going to happen. Then, the logic starts breaking- first, Dave referred to the mask as a uniform, assuming that Mindy wanted her uniform taken off. While this may not be totally wrong, it's either Dave has a problem with vocabulary or Mindy was not being specific enough.

Then, the 'What the fuck' thing happened. Mindy's mask came off, but it took with it Mindy's face- something that really, really shouldn't happen in real-life. There was another face underneath, and it turns out to be Demoness's. Now how could that be possible when Demoness was already killed? Even if Demoness and Hit-Girl were disguising as each other, Hit-Girl would not have tried to kill Dave nor keep silent about her real identity. As you can see, logic was thrown out completely, and the dream becomes a nightmare when Mindy, who was actually Demoness, proceeds to bite Dave in the neck.

This entire dream sequence has another function however that is for the big picture. This serves as a foreshadow of things to come. However, like any good foreshadows, this was meant to be invisible until a second read-through. The dream sequence could just easily be dismissed as a really bad dream that was born out of Dave Lizewski's bad experiences in his first brush with the Demoness, and the physically agony he was forced to endure. If it was me, I'd sure have a nightmare along those lines.

This foreshadow however, may be a wee bit too obvious, and I knew it, so there were a few chapters after this that serves to dampen any suspicion that may arise that Mindy was Demoness. The most significant one was when Mindy returns from her supposed 'vacation' to find out her stepfather was gunned down by Demoness- genuinely, she showed great remorse and shock, seemingly ruling her out as Demoness (in the end, we found out that she was indeed the culprit, but only because she had Dissociative Identity Disorder). If that wasn't enough, Mindy broke down before her stepdaddy and Dave, and vowed to catch Demoness.

Other than that, Chapter 6 was also another great opportunity for another rare match-up- that of between Red Mist and Demoness. It turned out to be something like a fight between two Samurais. From here, it was pretty much established that Demoness was indeed very much sadistic, always attempting to get as much mileage as she could with each person she kills, though she knows when not to do it, such as when there was little time.

Overall, Chapter 5 & 6 were, I feel, well written enough, though I wished I had written the fight scenes better- better described and elaborated upon, longer, more interesting and dynamic, etc. However, I had limited experience in terms of writing out action sequences, especially fights between such colourful individuals. I guess though, there is always a start for everything...


	34. Bonus: Writer's Commentary Part 8

**The Spiralling**

**Bonus Feature: Writer's Commentary Part 8**

**Chapter 7: Stepping Stone:** This chapter begins with its feet firmly planted back on reality. The nightmare was over, and it was time for the real nightmare to continue, and what better way than to start it off with some update on what's going on? Dave Lizewski decides to meet his friends after school for some catching up, but it was actually more to do with his obsession as a superhero, and his commitment towards stopping his new nemesis, the young, disturbed girl, Demoness.

The main purpose of his talk with his friends Todd and Marty was a rather simple plot device to divulge some important information to the readers. Todd and Marty had become plot devices on their own- They had become something like information brochures with the message printed on them. It was crude, but it felt right, the way I advance the story in this manner.

In the movie, they were supporting characters and comic relief. They reveal, through their amazing ultimate trio friendship, how Dave Lizewski was like as a person. In his own words, Dave wasn't a funny guy, just a normal teenager 'just existing'. While Dave and Marty were robbed walking home together by two street gangsters on 'pussy patrol', Dave was shown to be the more wilful person (to change his circumstances). It was especially obvious later on when Dave was the one becoming Kick-Ass, not them. In the story however, I chose not to build on this relationship much, as Todd and Marty weren't the point of the story, but they were easy to use as information kiosks as it meant I won't need to create new characters that are convincing and deep- It takes creative energy to do such a thing. Yet, as I said, it's not out of place to do this.

Another very important element of this chapter was that it would go on to show something else that is very essential for a good story to work- Character development. In the second half of the story, Dave as Kick-Ass returned to the streets at night to continue patrolling to look out for Demoness, or as a lower priority, other criminal activity. One part of this character development was how his equipment continues to evolve and improve. Earlier in this chapter, even before he met his friends in the Atomic Comics Cafe, he had spent his savings on an Iphone so that he could access his Myspace account anytime, anywhere. Also, he started rummaging through his dad's old stuff to come up with a radio that could, to his luck, jack into police channels.

However, that was just at the surface, even if it was quite an important aspect of Dave's development. After getting equipped and prepared and going for his foot patrol, he did indeed encounter a robbery at a pawnshop just when he was about to give up at midnight. He fought and won, but it wasn't just any normal victory- sure, winning by force of arms is encouraging and rewarding, and it shows character development, the whole point of this half of the chapter. As I wrote this, I found a more potent way to do this rather than just coming up with a generic fight scene- yes, it occurred to me only when I was about three quarters of the way through this fight scene. Instead of just showing he was a better fighter, why not show the other aspects of a hero that became apparent in him? This improvement on multiple lanes in his character did what I wanted to do- It showed character development in a high one-shot dose. In other words, effective character development. It worked for me, hope it works for you.

**Chapter 8: Development:** Hmm, I just realised the title of this chapter seems to coincide with the point of the latter half of the previous chapter. Odd. Anyway, the start of this chapter builds upon the previous instalment of the previous chapter- or the essence of the ending of the previous chapter. Dave felt triumph for the first time in a long time, since his glory in aiding Mindy to exact justice and revenge all at once on Frank D'Amico. This is further elaborated and expanded upon in the opening of this chapter.

However, the opening is also there for another reason- It acts as a bridge to the next level of Kick-Ass' superhero operations. He wanted to call in Mindy for help, and he was willing to do it despite the rift that had formed between him and Mindy Macready- By bringing in his former teammate, he was intending to heighten his chances of finding Demoness, and we all know... Mindy's a hunter-killer against criminals. Another reason for this small but meaningful (at least I think so) entry was to set the stage for the fake climax of the story. By this point, I was still misleading the reader, and this was part of the gag- This time, I wanted the reader to think 'something big, dynamic and epic is about to happen!' As we all know, it did when they got together in the movie- ending it with a bang as loud as ten thousand bundles of TNT. Of course, this was not meant to be, as I had something entirely different in store- A twist I was hoping that would define this fan fiction.

Most of the story, however, focuses on Aldan Bonitus, the new hero around the block. This is done partially to break the monotony of the story- As amazing as Kick-Ass was, we as modern human beings get bored of even King Kong when it appeared enough times on screen. I had some kind of a bored-meter in mind as I wrote this story. Whenever the mercury in the bored-meter climbs too high, I would naturally try to insert something different and fresh in to make the story more dynamic. This time, I did it with Aldan to cool the bored-meter. This is not to say though, that Aldan was just there to distract the readers, oh no. He was a unique character, and he's got his own important place in the story- As a major supporting character. This part develops him even further the way I did with Kick-Ass in the previous chapter.

Grandmaster arrives in the city, entirely bewildered at how it had transformed in his absence. As Mr. Bonitus marvels at the sight before him, he was soon harassed by police officers, and he acts awkwardly towards them. This entire sequence was to emphasize his estrangement from modern society and culture- He had exiled himself to relieve himself from his trauma of having failed badly in creating a family for himself, and to continue the craft that current society had so rejected altogether.

As I wrote this, I was brainstorming at the same time how someone would react if they were away from all of civilization for twenty years before coming back, how I would react. This was what I got. This was of course just part of it. This was the beginning of the healing process in Aldan- In coming back, he will start getting used to civilization again, though it won't be that soon. The other side of this chapter was of course, society's reaction towards a quaint guy in return- And this was embodied in the form of two police officers. Assumption, tension and ridicule was embodied in those two police officers.

One thing I felt could have been improved right from when I wrote this chapter was that the tension between Aldan and the police officers could have been handled better. It was designed to be awkward, but it became too awkward for my taste. If I remember, I had trouble with this chapter, and it took me more time than the rest to figure this one out. This was the best result- I do hope you guys agree with me too.


	35. Bonus: Writer's Commentary Part 9

**The Spiralling**

**Bonus Feature: Writer's Commentary Part 8**

**Chapter 9: Where Paths Cross:** This chapter is designed to interweave the two separate stories together, bringing two different paths into one. This however, is done with little way of introducing Dave and Aldan to each other as they were embroiled in a fight against the latest menace to the city. Of course, Aldan was introduced to Mindy's other personality as well, Demoness, through a clash between them in which Aldan was trying to save the man she was trying to interrogate.

Through this chapter, we know immediately the difference between Aldan and Dark Mindy. The former was of course, old while the other young. The former was on the side of good, while the other has bad intentions (I wouldn't classify her as evil, seeing that she was a construct of a ten-year-old disturbed and damaged mind, seeking revenge against those that disturbed and damaged it in the first place out of suffering). The former was polite and proper even in the face of violence and hostility- Aldan was a character that most closely resembled a typical superhero. The latter was irredeemably uncouth and violent in the face of harmlessness (the man she interrogated was entirely subdued). Aldan uses tactics that minimize harm while Demoness uses tactics that maximizes harm.

As you can see from this, Aldan and Demoness are mortal enemies- It was only by virtue of the fact that they don't meet often, and that Aldan thought she was his long-lost daughter much later on, that they weren't locked in a two-way merciless combat (Aldan's exclusive aversion to doing harm unless forced to has a play in this too).

After their brief exchange, a fight broke out between them- This fight is more than just about the action. Like in a kung-fu film, it was used to match up two fighters to let them have a go at each other- In doing this, we discover how the both of them fought, and how they, well, match up to each other. Here, we could glimpse from this that despite the huge difference in age, Aldan and Dark Mindy were equal in skill, at least where swordplay and melee is concerned. Pull a gun out however, and Demoness had the advantage- This is an important development as it shows Aldan's hate for modern firearms, deeming it as dishonourable. It's another form of character development. Here, we could glimpse at another character dualism- Aldan's chivalrous while Demoness is more than willing to use anything and everything to her advantage.

Further down the chapter, the dark side of Mindy was shown to retreat without defeating both Kick-Ass and Grandmaster. This is significant, as it shows that she was after something after all, and not blundering around looking for blood. This is to build character depth. Of course, through application of refined but altogether brutal force, she was able to get what she want and disappear into the night, leaving behind two critically injured people to cover her retreat- And that was intentional too. More on character depth- Through this, we know that Dave Lizewski's still altogether far from heroic, practical and perfect. Despite numerous opportunities to learn first-aid and the clear need for it, he never did. Aldan on the other hand, knows it well enough to save a person from bleeding to death from multiple gunshot wounds.

The next significant part of this chapter is a small twist that knocks Sergeant Marcus out of the roster of active characters in the story. He was revealed to be the African-American cop who was gunned down. This has many implications and uses. First off, Demoness was never on the side of good and justice, just on her own side. She drew the line with everyone else, and wanted only revenge and her own form of warped justice. This was pretty much established before, but with this, it should be more clear and can serve as a reminder of her motivations and goals.

Now, the second thing... This is very important to ward off any suspicion that Demoness is Mindy. Sergeant Marcus, after her family had all but perished due to Frank D'Amico, was the most precious thing to Mindy. In gunning him down with absolute cruelty and without bias, this could seemingly come off as the fact that Demoness isn't Mindy in disguise. This is further strengthened that she beheaded his partner, someone who should mean something to Marcus. One could of course argue that Demoness did not put a bullet into Marcus's head, therefore she was reserving some sympathy and bias for him, but remember Demoness's modus operandi? She actively sought to inflict maximum pain over a maximum span of time without reducing the mortality of her attacks- She did this to Marcus, and his fate throughout the entire story was never really revealed. His partner was supposed to be a direct threat to her- This sort of happened in the background. He was supposed to have pulled his pistol on her, so he was beheaded straightaway- Sadists and masochists do not love death.

**Chapter 10: Paragon:** In other words, it's crazy TV time. Before I started penning this down, I had doubts about how this would work out, if it could work out at all. I was in my bunk at that time, when the idea for this hit me. Why not see things from Demoness's point of view for once? That ought to make things really, really, disturbingly interesting. Hence, I started putting it down into words. Then, I had an even better idea that is very different from the traditional first or third person narrative. Why not pen her thoughts down as it would surface in her dark, disturbing little mind? And so I started putting that down into words. The result scared even me- It was so disturbing that I couldn't work even the next day. I was already so stressed and seeing the monster I create had pushed me off the edge.

After recovering from seeing Cthulu, I finished it up, and boy do I realise how it worked so well. As you know, every word was presented as it would have been in Demoness's mind. Her thought organisation and processing, as you can see, is very different from a normal person. The way I wrote it was meant to be chaotic and disorganised- This is to hint at the fact that she's not exactly a normal person, but someone who was character disturbed. Someone who was even mentally ill- A small hint there that it was Mindy, except crazy, though I made it such that you can never figure it out until you read it a second time- How well it worked though, I don't know.

From the paragraphs of her thoughts, there are various times in which she seem to be talking to herself- This is meant to show that she had multiple personality disorder (this is the informal name of the disorder). One a weaker but more good-natured side while the other was the dominant but dark side. They constantly argue, but the dark side always win. The weaker side was referred to as a caged bird- this metaphor was used constantly throughout, to hint at the fact that someone was kept trapped in the darkness of Demoness's mind. It was supposed to be Mindy.

This except of her thoughts ends with her cutting herself up- maximising the presentation of her as a really, really disturbed little kid. This part though, I felt, didn't work out as well as the rest of the parts, but I left it in because I couldn't imagine it any other way- In other words, this is the best I could come up with at that point in time.

After the Cthulu I created had left the scene temporarily, another more innocuous scene develops. Mindy was reintroduced into the story after she had seemingly been knocked out of it by going on vacation. This is of course, to mean that Demoness had released her temporarily, having completed a big part of her operation. Mindy acts as if she knew nothing at all- The memories of all Demoness had done remained with that split personality. In other words, it's amnesia, at least on Mindy's side it was.

Shortly after returning home, Mindy received three SMSes, one from Dave who sent it to her much earlier in the story, another from the same person just recently while the third one was kept ambiguous, but everyone should probably guess that it was supposed to be from none other than Demoness, using another cell phone to communicate with her parent personality. This was supposed to reintroduce some tension and uneasiness but there's more to it than just to set the scene. I had always imagined that there's a battle of will going on in Mindy's mind between Demoness and Mindy- And it's a show of Demoness's desire to take over completely. Of course, being an amnesiac, the original Mindy did not know that.

Character development happens soon after. As it was absent on Mindy's side all the way, it was important. To develop her, I started writing in her reactions to the events of the very first chapter, and how far she had come ever since she started trying to live like a normal girl after the events of the original movie/comic. There was some progress in this- She had became more sensitive and more needy of attention. Being slapped was nothing compared to getting shot at, and yet she could cry from it. She was trained to function with or without teammates, but now she was craving for her stepdaddy to take her to the park. Yet, she was still divided on this change in herself. This, I feel, is indispensible character development.

Her attachment to Marcus, her stepfather, and how much she needed him, was shown as she rushed downstairs to check on who rang the doorbell. I had written it such that she was really hoping and expecting it to be her father. As she rushed to the door, Mindy was shown to be acting both like her trained assassin self and a normal girl, to show that she was acting in the highest capacity just to see her dad, but she became clumsy as she was only focused from seeing him- as evident from how she opened the front door. This is also an allusion to her change in character.

She was greeted with the bad news shortly after, a bomb we know would drop, which brings us to another element. I was going for a tear-jerker here. There was supposed to be a mix of sadness and happiness in this scene- As it was supposed that Mindy had return to a normal life somewhat smoothly (the feel is not ruined by the story's big twist, as it happens much later on), but not without consequences. Her return to normal life and a good father was a happy thing, with a touch of sadness. On the reader's side however, we know that her father was gunned down last night- Hence, the readers were supposed to feel sad for the inevitable upheaval of her life once again. I don't know how well did this work, though.


	36. Commentary after Author's Comeback

**The Spiralling**

**Bonus Feature: Writer's Commentary Part 10**

It felt extremely odd, returning to this old fan fiction of Kick-Ass I wrote 3 years ago. It was like revisiting an old friend, or flying over to another country to meet close relatives I'd left years ago. As to why I'd stopped writing Writer's Commentary 3 years ago, I'd long forgotten. I might have figured out that too much of it might spoil the story, or that it was unnecessary in the end. It could also be that I was moving on out of my army obligations and into my studies, and so I was distracted. For years, I've forgotten of the Kick-Ass franchise, and now that Kick-Ass 2, the movie, was released, I was reminded again of this wonderful old friend.

I spent a few hours rereading my own work, after watching Kick-Ass 2 at its debut night. It was a strange sensation, as if it was written entirely by someone else. 3 years seemed like a short time, but in reality, it was a long time, over a thousand days and nights. People change, and so did I. No longer was I a kid just out of adolescence, and no longer was I in green. I grew up, became an adult, started studying in university. English Literature and Creative Writing. It did wonders to my reading and writing. This combination of increased experience in all matters and skill in writing has alienated me from The Spiralling.

As I read my old work, I was cheering my old self on. There were some things he did right, but this fan fiction, the way I see it, did not age well. There were many things I wished I could have done differently, such as further elaborating on Mindy's damaged psyche. I thought I could express her insanity better with more convincing and better crafted run-on sentences. It felt like it was getting tired towards the end, but that shouldn't be the case, now should it? Mindy's insane alter-ego, the Demoness, should be almost above exhaustion, as she was an abstract entity motivated only by vengeance, fed by depression and hatred. Speaking of Demoness, I thought I could have invented a better name, but I guess I'll let that slide.

Moreover, I felt that the third act of The Spiralling could have been done better. It had way more potential than that. It was just pure action with the Demoness cutting through hordes of police officers and mobsters. I don't exactly do pure action (at least now), so I felt that I could have explored Demoness' psyche more? Other than showing that her thought process was extremely chaotic?

Other problems. I feel that my dialogues were one of the things that were starting to show wrinkles. They felt stiff, unnatural. Moreover, I wasn't exactly breaking new grounds, just copying dialogue from the comic and movies. Although in some cases, it was to give clues that Mindy was actually Demoness, or to provide references back to the comic/movie this fanfiction was based on, in all the other cases, it was inexcusable. At least I know that now.

Upon revisiting this old fanfiction and rediscovering my father's love for it, the next step is to think about what I want to do next for it. Do I continue with the writer's commentary? Or do I continue on this tangent, and write a sequel to this fanfiction? The Spiralling 2? Do I continue to explore this alternate Kick-Ass world in which Mindy's mind wasn't as strong as in the comics/movie? Or do I leave it as it is? Some of you were asking for a sequel, but possibilities include a rewrite, or an entirely new fanfiction. We'll see.


	37. Bonus: Writer's Commentary Part 11

**The Spiralling**

**Bonus Feature: Writer Commentary Part 11**

Before I begin, let's get this out of the way first. After rereading my own work, I realised that my grammar was horrible, HORRIBLE back then. While I don't think that I was that bad in the past, I believe it's the result of poor practice in the trade of writing. I don't believe I have revised my work – it was just straight to the website once it was done. Anyway… (Note: As I can't remember everything I was thinking 3 years ago in the making of this fan fiction, I'll just try to do what I can, and include my own retrospective interpretations.)

**Chapter 11: Mindset**

In this chapter, we begin with a scene in a police station, with Aldan or 'Grandmaster', being held for questioning. The first act of this chapter was simply to give Aldan some screen time. Some might call it filler, but I believe I was aiming for character development. By juxtaposing the Grandmaster with an average city detective, we accentuate Grandmaster's personality. He is calm, and he is patient, where most people would either be nervous or having a full-blown freak out in a police interrogation, especially some of the lower-ranking criminals. Even those who are innocent would find it hard to keep calm, not the Grandmaster though. He's confident, and it gave him his ticket back home when his previous efforts to find it failed.

Upon encountering his home, he seems to have entered into some kind of a surreal scene with white light and spectres, with the house appearing to be fine. As a regular reader might be aware by now, a recurring theme I seem to be going for back then was to delve deep into a character's mind, and this is one of those scenes. He was remembering things, and most of what happened as he was 'Opening a door that no longer exists,' and seeing his wife took place in his head. He was getting distracted up until a junkie rushed him with a cleaver.

The junkie is an interesting minor character. I can't remember, for the life of me, what I was thinking with her, but I believe it has the effect of making the readers (or at least some) believe that the junkie was the Grandmaster's daughter. Otherwise, the junkie's just a plot device to break him out of his trance, and introduce Michael.

That said, with Michael, I believe I was going with the concept that every character's got their use and purpose. Here, Michael makes up for the Grandmaster's vulnerability. Michael's young and street-smart in the new world, and he doesn't have a lost family. He's a big help to the Grandmaster, and yet, it is clear that he needs Grandmaster for his own development, as my old self have seen it fit to make him an apprentice-type character. Combat-wise, he's no match for the Grandmaster, and he's certainly a cakewalk to the Demoness, as the readers would certainly discover in later chapters.

The last act of the chapter with Mindy, Dave and Marcus is an interesting one. It actually has more than the singular function of being a tearjerker (and I really hope it didn't fail in this function either). It is meant to show that Mindy cares about Marcus, and is genuinely broken by his mortal injuries. At the same time, I believe I was going for something else, something more insidious. By putting Mindy in this scene, in the scene that ended the last chapter with her screaming and waking up the neighbourhood, I was actually trying to push suspicions of Mindy being the assailant away, hoping that the intense drama (I hope) would dissuade readers from suspecting Mindy as the one who gunned down Marcus, when in the end it was in fact her, except it was her dark side, the shadow created by her Dissociative Identity Disorder. This sets the reader up to believe that Mindy was just about entering the fray against the Demoness.

It also has the added bonus of making Mindy a greater victim, as she was unwittingly the pawn of her own damaged mind, and it was causing major distress at this point. Well, at least I hope it works.

**Chapter 12: Connections**

The first half deals with the character development of Aldan. The second half leads up to the next chapter. There is nothing much to say about this, except that the second half wasn't very well written. I feel that Mindy could have been better written and characterised. I believe what I was going for was to show that she was a little out-of-character due to grief, but as it turns out, it seems a little weird.

If I ever revise this story again, I would have them plan their search there and then, as the way it is now just seems to revert the readers' suspicions back to Mindy (or at least I think so). As it is though, my main beef with this chapter so far is Mindy's characterisation. Some of the descriptions aren't great, and her dialogue could use a little more work. Mindy, as a character, was supposed to be the laconic wisecracker who had some of the best lines, but here, it's clearly not the case.

Perhaps a revision in Mindyology is in order.


	38. Bonus: Writer's Commentary Part 12

**The Spiralling**

**Writer's Commentary Part 12**

**Chapter 13: Life and Death**

In a nutshell, this chapter was designed as further development into Aldan/Grandmaster's backstory. Before this chapter, the Grandmaster might have been portrayed as a little too idealistic, although I would like to contest that this idealism is realistic, as the Grandmaster had been through some less than happy times, and he's lived quite a long time. While some people may fall into villainy, Grandmaster chose the opposite.

Other than to use the wise Grandmaster's monologue to throw readers off from the fact that the Demoness was Mindy and not his daughter, this chapter was concocted (inasmuch as I can remember) to show the other side of the Grandmaster, the one that made some poor decisions and mistakes. What is realistic, in the end, is that no one's perfect, and this chapter is the counterbalance to the Grandmaster's idealism. Not to mention, it finally shows the Grandmaster in a very low state, feeling extremely sad over the death of his wife. This humanises him, or at least I hope it does.

A minor little treat I included for the Grandmaster was the date of his wife's death. She was killed in 2010 in the cross-fire of a drive-by shooting. That was anything between days or months from the Grandmaster's return. He would have been thinking the same thing, and regretted not coming earlier, thinking that if he did, he might have saved his wife, or at least be there for her when it was time for her to go.

This is very important not just for character development, but also for the franchise, as one of the main themes of Kick-Ass is real-life consequences and how an individual's actions could lead up to it. While the core of it was specifically about vigilantism or being a real-life superhero, I'm sure a significant portion of Kick-Ass is also about personal decisions.

**Chapter 14: Broken**

Seeing that there was no interaction between Hit-Girl and the Grandmaster, this chapter provides it. Fans of TV series have always wanted their favourite characters interacting. If this little fan fiction of mine had any fans, I hoped it pleased them. However, that wasn't the reason for writing this chapter, or at least it wasn't the exclusive reason. Being a writer and father to this story (though Hit-Girl isn't my character as much as I wish it was), I'd want my characters to interact with each other as much as possible. I was basically going with the Gedenkan experiment, stirring some things up and seeing what would happen. In this case, I tried putting Hit-Girl and the Grandmaster together to see what would happen.

The Grandmaster and Hit-Girl, as it turns out, became a stereotypical representation of the generation gap. The Grandmaster is formal and proper while Hit-Girl's very informal and vulgar. The Grandmaster prefers to be cerebral and logical when he interacts with people, while Hit-Girl tends to show her angry, emotional side – the vulgarity helps. A note though – I'm not stereotyping nor giving them a fixed role. Hit-Girl, by all means, could easily be a very methodical, logical person. Otherwise, she wouldn't have survived so many missions against the mob.

Eventually, however, the Grandmaster and Hit-Girl was able to set aside their differences and focus on their similarities: They've both lost someone close to them. The generation gap's been closed, though I'm not sure if it was the most stereotypical way or not.

And now the obligatory what-to-improve-on section. After 3 years have passed, I've read this chapter again, and I'm largely dissatisfied with my old self. Grammar aside, Kick-Ass' dialogue could use a little improvement. "Stop it, Hit-Girl! You're acting just like her!" Makes Kick-Ass sound more naggy or over-feminine. Then there's Hit-Girl breaking down. In the end, realistically, she wouldn't break down like that in front of her fellow superhero peers – she's the type who'd find time after duty to do that. It's extremely clear in the movies, both in the first and second. I have no idea how I missed that. I guess I might have fallen into the telling rather than showing mistake, when there are other ways to show a character's grief and devastation other than to make her cry. Tip for self and you, if you need it: Show rather than tell, don't tell rather than show.

Lastly, I'm divided right now as to my decision to make the team split up. At first, I thought it was stupid, as divided, a team is weak. They should all have known that. Yet, at the same time, I also know that they were just scouting, and that they were rushing to find Demoness, so splitting up isn't so stupid a decision. In the end, I feel that as it is, it works as it serves a narrative function, and that is to trick the reader into thinking that Hit-Girl was taken prisoner when in fact Mindy was Demoness all along. The other narrative function is to let Mindy turn into Demoness without the other characters knowing. Well, there's always a better way of doing things.


End file.
